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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627514">love is for fools, yes fools such as i</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cressisaqueen/pseuds/cressisaqueen'>cressisaqueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, She Loves Me AU, Slow Burn, dimya, gleb is entirely out of character but i needed an asshole and he fit so, they're idiots your honor, y'all it's finally here my magnum opus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:41:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cressisaqueen/pseuds/cressisaqueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>No. No, no, no, no. He could not have possibly been in love with Anya Romanov. No way. She couldn’t have possibly been the woman who perfectly knew his heart, who put tiny faces in her o’s, who read every single book in the library downtown. They hated each other. There was no room for love in whatever silly rivalry they had. But if she had really written all those letters… </p>
<p>Oh.  </p>
<p>Oh no. </p>
<p>Dmitry Sudayev was in love with Anya Romanov. </p>
<p>The thought made him want to gag, but there was a truth to it. He loved Dear Friend and Anya was Dear Friend, meaning he loved Anya. He didn’t want it to make sense, didn’t want to accept it. So, he ran. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>a dimya she loves me au</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anya | Anastasia Romanov &amp; Tatiana Romanov (Anastasia 1997 &amp; Broadway), Dimitri | Dmitry &amp; Vlad Popov, Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 &amp; Broadway)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. act one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i meant to finish this near december but that didn't end up happening but either way my magnum opus is finally done and i genuinely enjoyed writing this so much so i hope y'all enjoy reading it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Summer was Dmitry’s favorite season. He loved the hot, lazy days spent reading a good book; loved how the air seemed cleaner; loved how everything just shined in summer. But mostly, he loved summer because he despised the cold. </p>
<p>“Good morning, Gleb,” Dmitry said as he walked into work. </p>
<p>“Morning, Sudayev. How was dinner with the dragon?” Gleb asked. Dmitry forced out a laugh. Gleb was never his favorite coworker, but he had never done anything to personally offend Dmitry, so he tried to be pleasant. </p>
<p>“Not getting me anywhere closer to a promotion,” Dmitry replied. Gleb laughed a real laugh and both men went to their stations to start the day. </p>
<p>Summers were great at Malevsky-Malevitch’s perfumery shop. There were hardly any afternoon rushes as all the holidays that would require some sort of perfume were long over, and the customers that did come in were usually well acquainted with Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch. Meaning Dmitry did very little to no work. </p>
<p>“Dmitry, my boy, how was your morning?” Dmitry’s favorite coworker, Vlad, asked. His eyebrows were raised and he was being completely unsubtle. Dmitry pulled the letter out of his coat pocket, Vlad already settling down to hear what was written. </p>
<p>Near the end of December, Dmitry had decided to put out an advertisement to his city’s lonely hearts’ club. It wasn’t his proudest decision, but his father had always taught him that a life spent with loved ones was well lived, and, as Gleb had so lovingly pointed out, Dmitry wasn’t getting any younger. </p>
<p>Dmitry didn’t actually know his penpal’s name or what she looked like, but he felt as if he’d known her his entire life. Vlad would be annoying and say he was in love, but Dmitry didn’t know quite what his feelings toward his Dear Friend truly were. </p>
<p>“‘Dear Friend,’” Dmitry read, “‘As you know, we had a terrible rainstorm the other day, so I had to quite literally race through the rain to get to your letter. When I got home, my nanna had asked what could possibly make me go out into the rain, and how I wish I could have said your name. While I would hate to violate your privacy, could I at least get a hint on your identity? Maybe the first letter of your first name? With love, your Dear Friend.’” </p>
<p>“And you’re no closer to meeting in person?” Vlad asked. Dmitry shook his head. He almost preferred it that way, if he were to be completely honest. Only using letters meant he could be honest and vulnerable without actually showing his face. If he were to look Dear Friend in the eyes and say he could quite possibly be on his way to falling in love with her, the words would never come out. </p>
<p>“It’s better this way, Vlad. This way we can’t disappoint each other.” Vlad sighed, seeming to be disappointed in Dmitry himself. <em> Whatever. </em>It’s not like Vlad had a very successful love life, so who was he to judge? </p>
<p>It was around mid-morning when their boss Lily Malevsky-Malevitch made her appearance. She wasn’t quite the dragon Gleb not-so-lovingly called her, but she could be absolutely terrifying if the situation called for it. </p>
<p>She sat herself down at Dmitry’s station, a wicked gleam in her eyes. </p>
<p>“So, Mr. Sudayev, when are you ever going to bring a girl over to our monthly dinners?” she asked. All of his coworkers laughed as Dmitry’s eyes went wide. He almost believed Vlad told her about his letters, but he knew Vlad would never betray him like that. “I mean, you’ve been over, what, four times? No handsome young man such as yourself should be alone for this long.” </p>
<p>He knew Lily was just kidding, was just being annoying, but it almost felt like an accusation. Maybe he <em> should </em> meet Dear Friend in person. </p>
<p>“He’s probably busy at all those cabaret’s downtown,” Tatiana Romanov said. That got a laugh out of Gleb, which made Tatiana blush. They were the disgusting work couple that got no work done when the other was around. Dmitry almost felt bad for Tatiana; she was a clever, witty girl and could easily get any guy she wanted. And yet she settled for Gleb. </p>
<p>Dmitry tried to defend himself, as he had never once been to a cabaret, but Lily beat him to the punch. “All those young ladies you’re romancing aren’t good enough for my food, is that it?” </p>
<p>“No!” Dmitry shouted, making everyone laugh even harder. “There are no young ladies!” He looked to Vlad for support, but he was reduced to tears. Betrayers, all of them. “Why such the sudden interest in my love life?” </p>
<p>Lily wiped at her eyes and sighed. “Oh, no reason. I was just reminiscing about my own youth, is all. The nights I’d spend dancing with anyone until my husband came along.” Everyone grew serious, and Dmitry felt nostalgic for something he never had. But he wasn’t the type to go out and party into the night. He much preferred to stay at home with a good book. “Mr. Sudayev, I want you to find a girl you can dance with.” </p>
<p>Dmitry laughed. “Sorry to break it to you, Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch, but I am a terrible dancer.” </p>
<p>“That doesn’t matter,” Lily scoffed. “There is someone out there who turns us all from the worst dancers into the best.” </p>
<p>Dmitry thought about Dear Friend. He wondered if she was a good dancer or not. Knowing her, she probably was. Maybe it would do him so good to take lessons. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Anya took a deep breath before walking into the shop. She was certainly qualified for the job. Why would they turn her down? </p>
<p>It wasn’t very crowded so Anya lingered, waiting for an employee to approach her. Nanna told her not to seem too eager, not to seem too desperate. Well, Anya <em> was </em>eager and desperate. She had lost her job at Ipolitov’s Perfumery after it was closed for repairs, and, as much as she loved the woman, Anya could not live with her nanna for much longer. Malevsky-Malevitch’s seemed like the next best option. </p>
<p>After a few minutes of wandering the store, Anya heard a voice ask, “Ma’am, may I help you?” She turned around and was almost shocked to see how tall the man in front of her was. He was also unfairly attractive. </p>
<p>“I wish to speak with Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, is she around?” Anya asked, hoping he didn’t notice her nerves. </p>
<p>“Not at the moment, but maybe there’s something I can help with.” He seemed incredibly polite, but she was not going to take no for an answer.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so. It’s important that I speak with Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch herself.” Anya looked around, then leaned in towards the man. He followed suit and Anya whispered, “I’m hoping that a woman named Marfa’s job hasn’t been taken yet.” </p>
<p>That immediately made the man laugh. Anya scowled, wishing she never thought him to be polite. She could tell he would be trouble. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Miss…”</p>
<p>“Romanov.” </p>
<p>“Romanov, but we’re not looking for any new employees. Maybe a few months ago, but now it’s just not possible.”</p>
<p>“What isn’t possible, Dmitry?” a woman asked. Anya knew it was Lily. Her nanna had described her as the most confident, self-possessed woman she had ever met, and the description was certainly accurate. “Oh, Anastasia, dear, hello.” </p>
<p>“Miss Anastasia Romanov wants a job,” Dmitry explained. He made it sound like she wanted the moon, impossible and out of reach. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry dear, he’s right. It’s not possible right now,” Lily said. The confidence Anya had scrounged up before coming in was gone as her shoulders began to slouch. </p>
<p>She wanted to stomp her foot like a child, demand she get a chance to show she could do it. And then she saw a customer eyeing a box on display. She looked from the customer to Dmitry, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. He looked to the customer too, knowing exactly what she planned to do. Lily would certainly be impressed if the box sold; the cigarette/candy boxes she bought weren’t doing as well as she hoped, and she was desperate enough that she made a bet with Dmitry. And he desperately wanted to win.</p>
<p>“Aren’t these boxes marvelous?” Anya asked the customer. The woman jumped at Anya’s voice. “And for just ten and six, what a steal.” Anya heard a snicker, knew it was Dmitry. She ignored him, focusing all her attention on the woman in front of her.</p>
<p>“I suppose, but what do they do?” she asked. Anya had absolutely no idea. She quickly looked at Dmitry and Lily but they betrayed nothing. Just another thing she had to do to prove herself. </p>
<p>“Well, you see, they’re for… candy.” Dmitry’s snicker turned into an actual laugh. The woman looked skeptical and Anya didn’t blame her. “Yes, candy.” Anya took the box from her and opened it. It started playing music, something Anya definitely wasn’t expecting. She managed to cover her surprise by singing along with the tune. “A musical candy box for all those times our hand unconsciously grabs a piece. I know I’m one to eat too many sweets, and this music box is a great way to snap yourself out of it.” </p>
<p>The woman reconsidered the box, the skeptical look on her face transformed into curiosity. She regarded it for a few moments before declaring, “I’ll take it!” Anya gasped, graciously thanking her. </p>
<p>Dmitry’s jaw dropped. No one managed to sell any boxes all morning and just like that, she made her first sale and cost Dmitry ten and six in only a few minutes. </p>
<p>“Well, that was certainly impressive, Miss Romanov,” Lily admitted. Anya was practically glowing, and Dmitry couldn’t quite look away. There was something about her that made Dmitry want to know her. Like she was someone he wouldn’t want to miss out on. “I guess I can add yet another Romanov to my employee list.” </p>
<p>“Congratulations, Miss Anastasia. I know Alexei and Tatiana will be thrilled,” Dmitry said. Alexei was their errand boy, biking around the city with deliveries. He was quite possibly the most optimistic person Dmitry had ever met. </p>
<p>“Yes, I have no doubt they will be,” she said. “And you can call me Anya.” </p>
<p>Dmitry nodded, watched her follow Lily up to her office. </p>
<p>“Anya,” he said, testing her name as she disappeared through the door. </p>
<hr/>
<p>(It was around a month and a half after Anya was hired when everything started to shift. </p>
<p>Dmitry hadn’t received an invite to Lily’s for dinner since May, and he could tell something was wrong. Everyone else seemed to notice too as they avoided Lily like the plague unless she needed them. Only Vlad could continue talking to her like normal. </p>
<p>It was also around this time when Dmitry realized Anya Romanov was a skinny little brat. She would always be whispering with her sister, passing judgement about him whenever he walked by. </p>
<p>
  <em> Well, two could play at that game. </em>
</p>
<p>So he began to tease her with Vlad. Nothing to her face, but small things that were sure to get her riled up. Maybe it was wrong to pick fights with their newest employee, but Anya went over his head and conned her way into this job. If it were anyone else, he’d almost be impressed.</p>
<p>What Dmitry failed to realize was that Anya’s whispering wasn’t judgement at all but rather curiosity. She didn’t know if she wanted to be his friend or not, but everyone else seemed to like him. Until she heard him mocking her with Vlad in the break room and decided to loathe him for all eternity. Dmitry was fine with that as he had promised himself the same thing.) </p>
<hr/>
<p>Soon summer was drawing to a close, and Dmitry was growing more agitated. Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch was constantly unsatisfied with his work performance (despite him doing everything right); Miss Anya Romanov was determined to be a thorn in his side; and Vlad seemed less cheerful and more on edge than Dmitry had ever seen him. His only comfort these days was writing to Dear Friend. </p>
<p>
  <em> Dear Friend,  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> When the day brings petty aggravations, and my poor nerves grow frayed, I know that I can forget such matters by pouring out my heart to you. I won’t bore you with such annoyances, but I have no doubt you’d laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> As you’re well aware, autumn has finally arrived. I know you’re welcoming the chill that is now in the air. If you’re ever in need of company while dining at a cafe or want someone to grab coffee with- </em>
</p>
<p>“Mr. Sudayev,” Anya said, interrupting Dmitry’s train of thought. He quickly hid the partially written letter, not doubting that she would mock him for writing to a complete stranger. “I do hope you know that it’s a work day and that you’re needed in the front. Of course, if you’d rather sit here doing nothing, I can take your customers for the day.” She said all this with a sweet smile that would have completely taken Dmitry in if it weren’t for her entire personality. </p>
<p>He quickly tucked the letter into his coat pocket, pushing past Anya. He returned her smile, pretending to not notice the small blush that bloomed on her cheeks. </p>
<p>As the work day continued, tensions were high between more than the usual two employees. Tatiana and Gleb were also at each other’s throats, and Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch continued voicing her disappointment in Dmitry. Only Alexei managed to remain cheerful.</p>
<p>When customers were few and far between, Dmitry snuck back into the workroom to continue his letter. Reading it over, he couldn’t help but feel foolish at his attempt to coerce Dear Friend into meeting face to face. He didn’t want to pressure her, didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable because of him. But he desperately wanted to place a face to the personality, to know the name of the woman who put adorable faces in her o’s. </p>
<p>Well, he couldn’t back out now; Dmitry Sudayev was rarely a coward.</p>
<p>
  <em>If you’re ever in need of company while dining at a cafe or want someone to grab coffee with, know that you need just send me a letter.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> With love, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Your Dear Friend. </em>
</p>
<p>He folded the letter back up, put it back in his coat pocket. His heart was pounding a little too fast for his liking. He was never nervous when it came to Dear Friend. Sure, when they first started their correspondence he never knew what to say, but that was because he didn’t know her. Now he did; now he knew her feelings and how they aligned with his own. </p>
<p>But meeting in person was different. He would see what she was really like, not the version of her he knew solely on paper, the version of her he had in his head. </p>
<p>Dmitry shook his head. He was being silly. It’s not like the mere mention of meeting face to face would send her running; all of their letters were leading up to it. </p>
<p>The walk home was a mix of dread and hope. Dmitry almost didn’t want to mail the letter. He was going to, but he didn’t have to like it. </p>
<p>The first time Dear Friend acknowledged his attempts to meet was the end of October. Dmitry read her letter on the walk to work, his smile growing as he read more. </p>
<p>
  <em> Dear Friend, </em>
</p>
<p><em> I don’t know if you’ve been feeling the same, but I’ve sensed an underlying tone of discord in the air. All of my coworkers seem to be in a bad mood (especially this one </em> awful <em> man I’m sure you’d dislike) and my nanna grows more agitated as the weather worsens. If I’m being honest, your letters are the only thing tethering me here in this dreadful cold.  </em></p>
<p>
  <em> I may like the chilly autumn weather, but once winter hits, I grow too cold for comfort.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> However, I do enjoy the cold enough to go out to meet a friend for coffee. In fact, if a friend wanted to dine at the Cafe Imperial, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> With love, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Your Dear Friend.  </em>
</p>
<p>Dmitry could hardly believe it. She wanted to meet! He filed the name Cafe Imperial away for later, ready to face whatever the day would throw at him. But then he saw Miss Romanov.</p>
<p>He checked his watch: 8:43. She was early. “Well, Miss Romanov, congratulations. I thought the day you’d be on time would never come.” She smiled sweetly at him but he knew there was only malice behind it. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m so sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Sudayev.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. He noticed a book tucked underneath her arm. <em> War and Peace. </em>Dmitry had read it before, knew Dear Friend recommended it to him a few weeks ago. He didn’t strike Anya Romanov as a reader. But maybe he just didn’t know her that well. </p>
<p>No. He knew her <em> too </em>well. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t say I’m disappointed,” Dmitry retaliated. “Let’s just say I’m… surprised.” Anya huffed, stuck her tongue out at him. Dmitry mimicked her expression as he followed her inside the store. </p>
<p>As he made his way to his station, he could faintly hear Alexei and Vlad. “They’re always arguing,” Alexei said in a hushed voice. </p>
<p>“Well, my boy, when two people like each other very much-”</p>
<p>“They <em> like </em> each other?” Alexei sounded as surprised as Dmitry felt. <em> Like </em> Miss Romanov? He couldn’t stand her! Vlad nodded, causing Alexei to gape even more. “They like each other <em> very much </em>? Well, why don’t we tell them?” </p>
<p>Dmitry wanted to scoff, but then they’d know he was listening. </p>
<p>“Alexei, they’d never believe us,” Vlad said, leaving to go to his own station. Of course he wouldn’t believe them because they were completely wrong. He hated Anya and Anya hated him. There was no place for romance - Dmitry almost gagged at the thought - in their relationship. Even if he had found her rather attractive when she first came into the store, into his life. Even if there were moments when she seemed as tired with all their arguments as he did. To put it simply, she was the most horrid person he’d ever met, and any universe where he had <em> feelings </em>for her was not a place Dmitry would want to live.</p>
<p>He hated her. Why couldn’t Vlad and Alexei see that?</p>
<p>A huff made Dmitry snap his head up. Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch was standing in front of his station, arms crossed. “Mr. Sudayev, why are there so many leaves littering my entryway?” She asked him like he was the one responsible, like no one else walked in through the doors throughout the morning. </p>
<p>“I-I don’t know, Mrs. M-” Lily put her hand up, silencing Dmitry. She walked away without a word to him, and ordered Alexei to sweep up the leaves. Dmitry ran a hand through his hair. She never gave him any credit for his work anymore. Something had shifted between August and now, but Dmitry had no idea what it was. </p>
<p>He only hoped her bad mood would end soon.</p>
<p>It did not.</p>
<p>Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch’s terrible mood lasted well into December. She blamed Dmitry for every little wrong thing that happened, praised Gleb when his work was less than satisfactory, and ignored Alexei’s attempts to get a promotion. Even Anya felt bad for Dmitry, which was very telling. </p>
<p>The only thing that kept Dmitry’s spirits up was the neat circle around December 10th on his calendar. </p>
<p>
  <em> Dear Friend, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Have you set your calendar for Tuesday? This feels like the end of a chapter for us, but I hope a new, exciting chapter will be written. I am unabashedly excited to meet my lady of the letters.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> As the cold December air grows worse, I’ll be warmly waiting for our date. Until then, I’ll be counting the hours. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> With love, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Your Dear Friend. </em>
</p>
<p>Unbeknownst to Dmitry, Anya was reading his letter to Dear Friend. Ever since the beginning of November, she was waiting for the perfect moment to suggest she and her own penpal meet. Her Dear Friend had finally asked if she was free for dinner at the Cafe Imperial and her heart sang. Now, she walked to work, letter in hand, wearing a beautiful blue dress. </p>
<p>And she was late. </p>
<p>Tatiana opened the door for her and Anya twirled to show off her dress. </p>
<p>“Oh, you look all new!” Tatiana exclaimed. Anya’s other coworkers oohed and aahed, making her feel slightly self conscious. </p>
<p>“Where is Mr. Sudayev?” Anya asked in a low voice. If he knew she was late again, he’d have a field day. </p>
<p>As she made her way to the back, Tatiana said, “The break room.” Anya swerved, putting as much distance between her and the room as possible. She had no need to be antagonized by Dmitry today. </p>
<p>Vlad came up behind Anya, taking her hand to twirl her around. “Does our little Anya have a date?” he asked, eyebrows wiggling. Anya blushed. She never really liked sharing her personal life with her coworkers, even if she <em> was </em> related to two of them. She didn’t need even more people poking their noses in her business. </p>
<p>But Vlad was always sweet to her, and Gleb was technically her sister’s boyfriend in a way, and Dmitry… Well, she didn’t really have a reason to share things with Dmitry, no matter how much she may wanted to from time to time. He would just poke fun at her. </p>
<p>“Maybe,” Anya said, though her red face certainly gave her away. “That’s why I’m so late. I just couldn’t figure out what to wear.” Tatiana looped her arm through Anya’s, resting her cheek on the top of Anya’s head. </p>
<p>“Well, you must certainly be in love if you’re <em> this </em>late,” Gleb commented. Anya stiffened slightly. He wasn’t wrong; Anya could certainly feel herself falling for Dear Friend, but love has always been a sore subject for her. She wasn’t very experienced with dates and romance and boyfriends; her parents and older sisters were overprotective enough to scare any suitor away. In the end, it only made Anya anxious when it came to romantic feelings. </p>
<p>Either Tatiana noticed Anya’s anxiety or was angry enough at Gleb to retort, “I’m surprised you’re such an expert on love despite never being in it.” Her comment seemed to bounce off Gleb as he just rolled his eyes and made his way back to his station. </p>
<p>Dmitry flung open the door to the break room, barely giving Anya a passing glance as he muttered, “Good morning Miss Romanov.” Anya and Tatiana shared a look; he didn’t yell at her or berate her for being late. Something had to be wrong.</p>
<p>“Is everything okay with him?” Anya whispered. As much as Dmitry got on her nerves, she didn’t wish him any ill will. Well, she may wish him ill will on special occasions. </p>
<p>“Lily has been rather… annoyed recently,” Tatiana explained. Anya’s eyes widened, sympathy filling them. Ever since October, Lily had been on Dmitry’s back constantly, even when he did nothing wrong. Everyone felt for him, even Anya, but he ignored their pitiful stares. “But don’t worry about him. Dmitry’s capable.” Anya nodded as she let her sister guide her to the break room, her gaze on Dmitry as he spoke with Vlad. </p>
<p>Dmitry was about to sit down at Vlad’s station when Lily emerged from the storage room. He leapt off the stool, perfectly still and straight. She glared at him as she held a bottle of face cream. </p>
<p>“Mr. Sudayev?” she asked, tone pleasant for once. “Do you know why I’m holding this bottle of face cream?” Dmitry shook his head. She grabbed his hand, slapped the bottle into his palm, and told him to open it. Dmitry squeezed the bottle, expecting the cream to go perfectly onto his hand. Instead, it exploded out the back, getting all over his new suit. </p>
<p>“It came out the back,” Dmitry said, dumbfounded. </p>
<p>“I wonder why,” Lily sneered. “Mr. Sudayev, is it too much to ask that my products not be defective? I mean, if it’s too much work for you, I can certainly find someone else who is more capable.” She walked away as Dmitry seethed in anger, not even allowing him to make his case. He hadn’t filled any bottles in weeks, leaving that job to Anya. </p>
<p>Of course it would be Anya who got him fired. </p>
<p>“Dmitry,” Vlad said, passing him a handkerchief. He looked down to see face cream still splattered on his suit. “My boy, you’ve been off all morning. I’m starting to think you want to get fired.” </p>
<p>“No, no, of course I don’t,” Dmitry said, wiping off the cream. “It’s just… I’m meeting her. Tonight.” He was giddy all of yesterday, but as soon as his alarm clock woke him, he’d been nothing but nerves. He could already tell the evening would be an utter nightmare.</p>
<p>He knew he’d fumble over his words, either blabbering on for minutes at a time or saying absolutely nothing at all. He knew he’d spill his drink all over Dear Friend, making her think he was a total klutz. </p>
<p>Dmitry checked his watch. <em> Three seconds, two minutes, and ten hours to go.  </em></p>
<p>“I just shouldn’t go, right?” he asked Vlad. “I’ll say I got sick or something.” </p>
<p>“Dima, you’re head over heels for this girl. Why back out now?” All of Dmitry’s worst insecurities came bubbling to the surface. She would be too smart for him, talking about things he had never even heard of. She would be too pretty for him, making people question why she would ever settle for him. She would be too kind for him, giving him more chances than he’d ever deserve. </p>
<p>“I know I’ll make a fool out of myself, that’s all,” he said instead. </p>
<p>Vlad’s look was stern but gentle as he clapped Dmitry on the shoulder and said, “We are all fools in love, Dmitry. If she’s really as lovely as she appears to be, she won’t mind a few first date nerves.”</p>
<p><em> Right. </em>Of course Vlad was right. Dear Friend must’ve been just as nervous as Dmitry was, she had to be. </p>
<p>And she was.</p>
<p>Anya was sweating in the breakroom, knowing Tatiana would want to know all about her big date. Where she was going, what the topics of conversation would be, and oh right, of course, the name of her date. If only Anya knew. </p>
<p>“You know, despite working together, I feel like we never talk anymore,” Tatiana said as she began wrapping the holiday gifts. “But I get it. You’re in love, you can’t spend <em> all </em> your time with your favorite older sister.” Anya forced out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m only teasing, Nastya. Do you think this is <em> the </em>date?” </p>
<p>“What date?” Anya asked. </p>
<p>Tatiana rolled her eyes. “You know, <em> the </em>date. The date that means he’s going to propose.” Anya turned a bright red. Never had she thought of marriage as something within her grasp; marriage was always a far away concept to her, like her parents’ wedding. It was never something that belonged to her. </p>
<p>“I don’t think we’re there yet. It’s far too soon,” Anya said, hoping she wouldn’t give anything away. If Tatiana knew about the lonely hearts’ club, she’d tattle to Alexei, who’d run to Maria, who would then blab to Olga, and soon Nanna and her parents would be lecturing her about the dangers of corresponding with strangers. Especially strange men. </p>
<p>“Well, how long have you been seeing each other?” </p>
<p>Anya opened and closed her mouth a few times before saying, “Uh, about a year.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; in fact it was the truth. Anya had responded to Dear Friend’s advertisement last December and their correspondence had started around the first week of January. But she had yet to see the face of the man she believed to be falling in love with. </p>
<p>“Oh, then of course you’re ready for marriage! I’ve been with Gleb almost two years and we are nowhere near even having that conversation.” Tatiana laughed like everything was perfectly normal with Gleb and not like they were in a three week long fight. When Anya didn’t join in, Tatiana gasped. “There’s something wrong with him, isn’t there?”</p>
<p>“What? No!” Anya defended. </p>
<p>“He’s too short, isn’t he? Nanna always said never marry a man shorter than you, and well, Nastya, you’re about as short as they come.” Anya slapped her sister’s arm, not even bothering to bring up the fact that Olga was a half inch shorter than she was. </p>
<p>“He is <em> not </em>too short,” Anya said, though she didn’t even know if that was true. “He’s, uh, about average.” Anya hoped Tatiana couldn’t pick up on her hesitation, but if there was one thing her sister was known for, it was her observantness. </p>
<p>“Well, tell me more about him,” she said. There was an edge to her voice, and Anya immediately knew she was getting caught in a trap. “Hair color?” </p>
<p>“Um, you know, brownish-blondish.” Oh, she was so screwed. </p>
<p>“And eyes?” </p>
<p>And suddenly all Anya could see were dark brown eyes, gazing at her with curiosity as she stepped into the shop for the first time. Eyes that seemed to follow her after an argument, eyes that made her want to drop everything and just <em> stare- </em></p>
<p>“Brown,” Anya squeaked out, face incredibly red. Tatiana paused, as if Anya was actually telling the truth, but then she smirked and Anya wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. </p>
<p>“You never mentioned a name.” And just like that, she was caught. Tatiana gasped. “You belong to a lonely hearts’ club!” Anya shushed her sister, hoping the door was enough to silence the accusation. </p>
<p>“It’s not that big of a deal,” Anya choked out. “And it’s not like I don’t <em> know </em> him. I know almost everything about him.” Except his identity. Tatiana’s expression was a mix of disappointment and downright amusement. <em> So glad seeing your sister in pain is funny.  </em></p>
<p>It’s not like Anya hadn’t tried to figure out who Dear Friend was. But the city was big and she only knew so many people, all of whom weren’t even close to being similar. <em> Well… </em></p>
<p>Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but Anya could see a few, very coincidental similarities between Dear Friend and Dmitry. They both had strong opinions - from politics to favorite book - and they both had a way of catching her completely off guard, though for completely different reasons. But no, Anya didn’t think Dmitry was her penpal. It was completely out of the question.  </p>
<p>“Nastya, he could be seventy-five,” Tatiana said. Anya shook her head; she did know one thing about Dear Friend and that he was in his mid-twenties. It was really the only detail the two had shared with each other, and for that exact reason. </p>
<p>“No, trust me, I know him. He’s not someone that would lie or exaggerate for attention. He’s actually very self-conscious, though he acts like he’s not,” Anya said, a smile unconsciously forming on her face. It shocked her slightly, how happy gushing about this stranger made her feel. </p>
<p>Tatiana sighed. “I just want you to be safe. Though there’s no doubt about whether or not you’re in love.” Anya’s smile grew. “Why don’t you tell me more about him. I love to suffer.” Anya cackled at that. </p>
<p>The more her sister talked about this complete stranger, the more Tatiana realized that her own relationship paled in comparison. Sure, Gleb had yet to say he loved her, but he must, right? You didn’t date someone for as long as they had if it wasn’t love. But then again, Tatiana had repeated that since they hit the one year mark. Maybe she could benefit from a love letter. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Dmitry tried to calm his nerves as he restocked his station. It wasn’t working very well; he still didn’t want to go on this date. But he was almost desperate to meet this girl who, in not that long at all, captured his heart in a way no one else had. He had to meet her, if only for a few minutes. </p>
<p>“Oh, Mr. Sudayev, there you are.” Lily perched herself on the stool, looking incredibly bored. “I need everyone to stay late tonight. I want the Christmas decorating done early this year.” </p>
<p>Dmitry’s heart dropped down to his stomach. </p>
<p>“Tonight? Well, Mrs. M-”</p>
<p>“Mr. Sudayev, don’t be uncooperative. Not that I would expect you to pick up on it, but I’ve been in a rather bad mood lately.” Dmitry almost snorted at that, but caught himself. Laughing at Lily would end with him losing his job. “<em> Everyone </em>is expected to stay late tonight, no exceptions.” </p>
<p>“But Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch, I’m meeting with someone tonight. It’s an incredibly important appointment, I can’t just-”</p>
<p>“Well, I suppose you just don’t want a job anymore, Mr. Sudayev.” Dmitry’s jaw dropped. Lily had never been so clear on how easy it would be to let him go. “I suggest you <em> stay </em>.” Lily left his station, climbing the stairs to her office. She was going to give Dmitry a stroke one day. </p>
<p>How would he explain his absence to Dear Friend? She would think he stood her up, and just like that, everything they built would be ruined. No, Dmitry <em> had </em> to meet her. There were other jobs, right? Though he would hate to work without Vlad, and Tatiana was always making him laugh. Alexei was a ray of sunshine no matter what, and Gleb sometimes gave him - mostly unwarranted - advice. And Anya… she made the day interesting, that was for sure. </p>
<p>They rarely argued about anything serious, and Dmitry almost enjoyed watching her get riled up over nothing. Her nose would scrunch up and her face would become unbelievably red. She would stand up on her tiptoes to get in his face, and sometimes she would get so close that Dmitry could count all the freckles on her nose. </p>
<p>The door to the break room flung open as Anya walked out, almost on cue. Dmitry blushed, refusing to think about what <em> that </em>could possibly mean. He couldn’t be thinking about Anya; he had a date with a girl that was absolutely not her. </p>
<p>“Oh, Miss Romanov, Lily wants us all to stay late for Christmas decorating,” Dmitry told her as she passed his station. Anya stopped and turned to him, ready to start a fight.</p>
<p>“I can’t stay late tonight! I have a date, you know I have a date,” Anya said. Dmitry did <em> not </em> know that and told her as much. “Well, why do you think I’m all dressed up? I’m not impressing anyone <em> here </em>.” Dmitry didn’t even notice she looked just slightly more put together than usual, wearing a beautiful blue velvet dress that brought out the blue in her eyes. She was also wearing more obvious makeup that Dmitry didn’t think looked bad. In fact she looked… well, pretty. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry Miss Romanov, but I didn’t plan this. I’m missing out on a date too.” </p>
<p>“Well, I can’t stay. I already made plans for tonight, and trust me, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” <em> Oh, </em> Dmitry thought. It was <em> the </em>date. The date that meant Anya would most likely end up engaged by the end of the night. Dmitry didn’t know why he felt slightly uncomfortable about that. </p>
<p>“<em> Everyone </em>has to stay, Miss Romanov.” Anya huffed. “If you don’t like it you can talk to Lily, but I’m just telling you what she told me.”</p>
<p>Anya leaned over the counter, mere inches from Dmitry’s face. “Believe me, I will.” As she pulled away, Dmitry felt all the breath leave his lungs. <em> Well, that was weird, </em>he thought. She didn’t get very far when she turned on her heel and marched right back up to Dmitry. “You know, I didn’t think very much of it when I sold that woman that music box, but now I know that it is the root of your hatred towards me.”</p>
<p>Dmitry scoffed. “Miss Romanov, I do not hate you.” His father had always told him that hate was a strong word, and while Dmitry felt strongly towards Anya, he didn’t feel as if it were hatred. She could push him to the brink of it, but he usually stayed on the same side he always did. </p>
<p>“Oh, then it must be because I went over your head to get a job. Men always tend to resent things like that, don’t they?” </p>
<p>“I do <em> not </em> hate you and I do <em> not </em>resent you. My feelings towards you have nothing to do with your first day and everything to do with your attitude.” Anya’s entire face scrunched up, and Dmitry could only imagine whatever witty retort would fall out of her mouth. But he was tired and nervous and stressed, so Dmitry ended the fight before it could officially begin. He held out his hand toward her. Anya almost jumped back in surprise. “Miss Romanov, at least for today can we have a truce?” </p>
<p>Her features softened and she looked at him in a way she never had before. Like she was seeing him clearly for the first time. </p>
<p>Anya shook his hand and said, “Sure. After all, you’re always the one who starts things.” Her tone didn’t make it seem like a jab, but as soon as he heard the words, Dmitry internalized them.</p>
<p>As Anya began to pull her hand away, Dmitry held on. She looked from their hands up to his eyes, a look of hesitation on her face. “Oh, <em> I’m </em>the one?” he asked darkly. Anya scowled and yanked her hand away. </p>
<p>“The moment I got here, you have done nothing but antagonize me,” Anya said. Dmitry laughed at that. Like she didn’t criticize everything about him, from the length of his hair to the dirt underneath his fingernails. “I at least tried to be your friend in the beginning, but you made it impossible!” </p>
<p>“Sure, because <em> I </em>was the one who kept making snide comments to Tatiana.”</p>
<p>Anya gasped. “I did not make snide comments to her! <em> You </em>were the one teasing me to Vlad behind my back.” </p>
<p>“I only teased you because you were too busy being a princess to focus on the customers,” Dmitry defended. Anya’s entire face was turning a bright red and he noticed her clenching and unclenching her fists. Who knew, today could be the day she actually hit him. </p>
<p>“You kept giving me insulting tasks! I’m not a child who needs to be handled with little kid gloves, Mr. Sudayev. You didn’t need to keep looking over my shoulder every two seconds.” </p>
<p>Dmitry suddenly remembered the incident with the face cream. How it had been squirting out the back ever since Anya took over filling them. </p>
<p>“Then why does the face cream come out the wrong end? I put <em> you </em>in charge of that, and well, if you can’t even handle that task-” Anya cut him off by slapping him across the face. Dmitry looked at her in shock. He was just kidding about her hitting him. </p>
<p>“You complain about Lily not giving you the credit you deserve, and while I agree with you there, you can’t just turn around and treat me the same way. I didn’t think you were such a hypocrite, Mr. Sudayev.” Anya’s words hurt worse than the slap. He didn’t even think he was treating her so terribly. He thought that was how they worked; she yelled at him and he yelled at her, but it didn’t really mean anything. Anya stomped away, wiping at her eyes as she excused herself to get water from the break room. </p>
<p>Everyone watched her go in silence. <em> So this is what it feels like to be instantly sorry, </em>Dmitry thought. He started to follow her when Alexei grabbed onto his arm. He said, “Let her cool off. She usually gets worked up and then calms down within a few minutes.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, kid. Sudayev was pretty shitty to her.”</p>
<p>“Gleb!” Tatiana scolded. But he was right. Dmitry never really felt remorseful after a fight with her, but then nothing he said had ever seemed to hurt her that much before. </p>
<p>Of course, that was when Lily decided to see what all the shouting was about. </p>
<p>“Starting fights again aren’t we, Dmitry,” she said. The lack of formality hurt more than Dmitry would be willing to admit. “I don’t even know why I keep you around anymore. All you do is cause trouble.” </p>
<p>Dmitry didn’t know if he was still wound up from his clash with Anya, or if he was finally done with Lily’s shit, but he completely lost it. </p>
<p>“Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch, I have been nothing but dedicated to you and this shop for years! If your terrible attitude has anything to do with my performance, why are you waiting till now to tell me?” Everyone gasped, and Lily’s face morphed into a look of pure rage. She looked like she was also going to slap him. But Dmitry didn’t let that stop him. “I have come in early, I have stayed late, I have done everything you’ve asked and more. And yet you won’t give me any credit. You won’t let Alexei advance in his career at all. You won’t berate Gleb when he hasn’t made a sale all day. I don’t know what I’ve done to you, but I know I don’t deserve to be treated this way.” </p>
<p>It felt so incredibly freeing to get everything he had been feeling off his chest. He didn’t care about any repercussions, he didn’t care that he was most likely about to lose his job. For the first time in months he felt truly good about himself. </p>
<p>Lily walked up to him, grabbed his tie, and yanked him down so they were nose to nose. All the confidence in Dmitry’s system evaporated. </p>
<p><em> Well, </em> Dmitry thought, <em> if Lily kills me, hopefully Vlad will keep my story alive.  </em></p>
<p>“I suppose I should take your little speech as your resignation then?” Lily asked. It was a completely rhetorical question; he was being fired. </p>
<p>“I suppose you should,” Dmitry said. Lily let go of his tie and Dmitry stumbled back. Lily barked at Tatiana to get him his last paycheck, and everyone unfroze. Vlad hovered awkwardly before enveloping Dmitry in a hug. “I’m going to get my things,” Dmitry choked out. </p>
<p>He entered the break room before remembering that Anya was in there. They stopped and stared at each other. </p>
<p>“Back for round two?” she asked. Her eyes were red and Dmitry’s guilt intensified. </p>
<p>He looked away from her and went to his locker. He saw the rose he intended to wear in his lapel later, grabbed it, and shoved it into his pocket. <em> Great. Another thing to ruin today.  </em></p>
<p>“Wait, you’re leaving,” Anya said. “Why are you leaving?” </p>
<p>Dmitry was ready to snap at her, his bad mood turning foul. But he couldn’t hurt her feelings again. No matter how bratty she could be, she didn’t deserve to be yelled at. </p>
<p>“Let’s just say we won’t be arguing anymore. I’ve lost my job.” Anya gasped. “Please, Miss Romanov, I don’t need anyone’s pity, especially yours.”</p>
<p>Anya scoffed and said, “Even when I’m trying to be empathetic, you just can’t accept that I genuinely want good things for you.” </p>
<p>“When have you ever wanted good things for me? I bet you were waiting for the day I’d either quit or get fired.”</p>
<p>Anya abandoned her spot at the table and marched right up to Dmitry. Yet again they were in each other’s space, leaving almost no room in between them. There was a fire in her eyes. It made Dmitry falter slightly. </p>
<p>“We may disagree from time to time-” Dmitry cackled at that, “-but I never wished you any harm. I actually liked having you around, despite your need to be the biggest jerk in the world.” The guilt from before started clawing its way up his throat. He should apologize. He noticed how Anya’s shoulders were practically touching her ears, how she kept clenching and unclenching her hands. </p>
<p>Anya scoffed again and made her way back to the table. Dmitry reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could get too far. The words were on the tip of his tongue - <em> I’m sorry </em>- but he just couldn’t bring himself to say them. Anya looked at his hand on her wrist. She looked like she had just been burned. </p>
<p>Dmitry let go, and instead of apologizing, said, “Goodbye, Miss Romanov.” He left the break room before Anya could reply.  </p>
<p>Tatiana stopped Dmitry before he could get to the front door, his paycheck in her hand. She gave it to him and rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Gleb awkwardly shook his hand, and Alexei’s hug was so tight Dmitry began to see stars. </p>
<p>“If you ever need anything, just let us know,” Tatiana said. Dmitry nodded and left the shop. For good. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Anya didn’t know why her chest felt so tight. It wasn’t like she even liked talking to Dmitry; all he ever did was yell at her. But they had an unspoken agreement that their fights never truly meant anything. Well, except for their most recent one. </p>
<p>She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She had a date in approximately half an hour. She was going to meet Dear Friend. <em> Oh god.  </em></p>
<p>As Anya began cleaning up and gathering her things, doubt began to creep in. Will he even like her? Would he think she was completely awkward, or know that in person and on paper she was two very different people. </p>
<p>Maybe she just shouldn’t go. </p>
<p><em> No, </em> she told herself. <em> You have been waiting weeks for this, you can do this. </em>But could she? She was always rather quiet around new people. What if he took her silence for indifference? No, that was ridiculous; he knew her heart better than anyone. He would know her true feelings even if she couldn’t express them properly. </p>
<p>Anya left the break room not long after Dmitry. She bid Tatiana and Alexei goodbye and blushed as Tatiana wished her luck. She would need all the luck in the world tonight.</p>
<p>“I hope tonight goes well for Nastya. She deserves to find love,” Alexei said as he helped Tatiana get the Christmas decorations down. “You deserve to find love too, Tatya.” </p>
<p>“Hey, I have love right now,” Tatiana said. Alexei looked at her, and even Tatiana agreed she didn’t sound very convincing. “Well, maybe things aren’t going the best right now, but couples go through rough patches. It doesn’t mean we aren’t meant for each other.” </p>
<p>They started decorating the stairs leading up to Lily’s office first. Vlad took over the work stations, putting on festive table coverings and lining it with tinsel. Gleb was doing absolutely nothing.</p>
<p>“It wouldn’t kill you to help,” Alexei said. Tatiana gave him a look. She knew none of her family really approved of Gleb, but she didn’t care. She loved him, even if he could be… difficult at times. </p>
<p>Gleb sighed. “Tatiana, my darling, why don’t we get a drink after you’re all done with this.” <em> You </em> not <em> we. </em>Maybe Tatiana could see where her family was coming from. Nothing was ever a ‘we’ thing; it was always a ‘you’ and a ‘me’ thing. Sometimes those things would overlap, but not often enough for Tatiana’s liking. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. There’s quite a lot of decorations, and it’s not like you’re making an effort to help,” Tatiana replied, not even bothering to hide the ice in her voice. Alexei looked at her with something close to pride in his eyes. </p>
<p>“Well, I had a long day. Watching Dmitry get fired was very emotional.” Vlad scoffed. “Come on, dear. When was the last time we had a night to ourselves?” </p>
<p>Gleb knew how to strike the right nerves. It was partly why he was such a good salesman. And, unfortunately, he hit the exact nerve that would make Tatiana say yes. </p>
<p>It had been almost three full weeks since they had a proper date night. Either Gleb always had ‘business to attend to’ or Tatiana had family matters. And she was also pissed off at him for blowing her off yet again which led to their three week fight. Tonight could be the night they patch things up.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Gleb…” Tatiana said. </p>
<p>Gleb walked up to her, taking the decorations out of her hands and placing them back in the box. Alexei huffed. “I’ll take you to The Neva Club. You love The Neva Club!” </p>
<p>“Oh, fine. One drink can’t hurt, I suppose,” Tatiana said. Gleb smiled and kissed her, making Tatiana forget all about her annoyance towards him. Alexei turned to Vlad and pretended to throw up. </p>
<p>They continued decorating the shop, Gleb pitching in a few times, until Lily emerged from her office and announced they could all go home.</p>
<p>“But Lily,” Vlad said, “there’s still some work to be done.” </p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter. Go home, all of you.” </p>
<p>They all looked at each other but shrugged. No one wanted to argue with Lily after the events from today, and any excuse to leave early was a good one. </p>
<p>Tatiana grabbed her things from the break room, excited to go out with Gleb. She met him by the front doors, waiting as he checked his watch. He frowned. </p>
<p>“Uh, what’s wrong, dear?” Tatiana asked. She could already hear his excuse coming, didn’t even have to hear the words to know she was being stood up again. </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s nothing. I just thought we would be staying later is all.” Gleb sighed. “Unfortunately, that means I can’t take you out for a drink. I have an appointment I simply cannot miss.” And just like that he kissed her cheek and left the shop. </p>
<p>Tatiana knew it. She knew it deep within her bones and yet she still felt disappointed. She actually wanted to spend time with her boyfriend - an outrageous concept, apparently. </p>
<p>Why was she so gullible? Every time Gleb broke his word and yet whenever he promised it would be different, she believed him. Everyone had warned her about him and yet she ignored them all. She thought him to be different, different from all the other stupid boys that broke her heart. But she wasn’t Anya or Maria; she didn’t just magically meet her soulmate. She never got a love letter, she was never romanced at the most romantic restaurant in the city. She was just… used. </p>
<p>“Tatya, are you okay?” Alexei asked. Tatiana didn’t even realize she had been crying. She wiped her tears and turned to her brother.</p>
<p>“Yes, baby brother, I am. From now on I will not be some girl with no self respect. I deserve love and romance and respect, just like everyone else.” Alexei smiled at her and she hugged him. Tonight she would be reinvented. Tonight she would transform into the girl she wanted to be. Somehow. “I think I need to clear my head, but I’ll see you at home,” she said and waltzed out the shop, her head held high. </p>
<p>Vlad was finishing up cleaning, almost all of the decorations in their respective boxes. He was about to grab his coat when the shop doors swung open to reveal… Dmitry?</p>
<p>“Vlad!” he said, running up to the older man. </p>
<p>“Dima, uh, what are you doing here? What about your date?” Vlad asked. Dmitry immediately paled. “That bad, huh?”</p>
<p>“No, no I haven’t even gone to the restaurant yet.” </p>
<p>Vlad stared at him. “Then what are you doing here? Go! Romance some lovely young lady!” </p>
<p>“Vlad, I can’t. I, uh, I wrote a letter to her, and I was hoping you could deliver it for me,” Dmitry said. As soon as he left the shop earlier, he knew he couldn’t go on this date. He practically ran home and wrote a letter to Dear Friend explaining his absence. He couldn’t meet her in this state. “Don’t look at me like that.” </p>
<p>The look on Vlad’s face could only be described as extremely disappointed. “My boy, she’s the love of your life. You can’t give up this easily.” </p>
<p>The anxiety whirling in the pit of Dmitry’s stomach was worse than any disappointment Vlad could have for him. Maybe Dear Friend wasn’t worth all this trouble. Maybe he never should have made an advertisement for that stupid lonely hearts’ club. Sure, it brought him some of the happiest months of his life, but it also brought him unexplainable anxiety and dread. Was she really worth it? </p>
<p><em> Yes, </em>Dmitry’s mind immediately replied. Of course Dear Friend was worth it, how could she not be? He just needed an extra push. </p>
<p>“At least come with me to the restaurant. Please Vlad,” Dmitry said. He could see Vlad’s resolve crumble and soon the two men were leaving the shop, on their way to The Cafe Imperial. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Lily was nervous. She was supposed to meet with the private investigator she hired to confirm what she knew three months ago. That her favorite employee was stealing from her. </p>
<p>It wasn’t incredibly hard to wrap her head around. Dmitry quickly became a close family friend, even getting close to Lily’s husband. Of course they would be in cahoots to rob Lily of all her money. </p>
<p>A knock on the shop’s doors startled Lily. She took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. </p>
<p>“Thank you for meeting me. I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but I appreciate it,” Lily told the private investigator. </p>
<p>“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pockets, showing it to Lily. “Here’s the address of your employee, Gleb Vaganov.”</p>
<p>Gleb? “I’m sorry, who?” Lily asked. </p>
<p>“Mr. Vaganov. The one who’s been working with your husband to get your fortune.”</p>
<p>No, that couldn’t be right. It had to be Dmitry… right? </p>
<p>Lily asked, “Are you absolutely sure it’s Gleb?” The private investigator nodded. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. Thank you so much for your time, sir.” Lily grabbed the paper from him and pushed him out of the shop. She read it over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. How could <em> Gleb </em>be the one stealing from her? The anonymous note she received said the thief was a well-respected employee, someone who’d worked with her for years. Lily just assumed they meant Dmitry.</p>
<p>Oh, how wrong she had been. </p>
<p>Lily ran up to her office, hoping Dmitry was home and it wasn’t too late. Of all the prideful people she worked with, Lily was the most proud of all. Oh, she hoped she could make things right. </p>
<p>She dialed Dmitry’s home number, willing him to pick up.</p>
<p>“Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch?” she heard Alexei call. She tuned him out, focusing only on the dial tone in her ear. “Lily?” She heard him climb the stairs. As sweet as this boy was, she could <em> not </em>deal with him right now.   </p>
<p>Alexei knocked on her office door. Lily whipped towards the door, unintentionally knocking her father’s gun off her desk and onto the floor. The gun went off, and Lily was struck in the leg by a bullet. </p>
<p>She shrieked and dropped the phone. The office door burst open as she crumpled to the floor, Alexei diving to catch her.</p>
<p>“Lily!” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Months before, Maria had gushed to Anya over lunch about how ‘wonderful’ and ‘romantic’ The Cafe Imperial was. Her fiance had taken her when he proposed, and Anya filed the name away for later. </p>
<p>Not that she expected Dear Friend to propose, but maybe if all went right. The idea of marrying a man she’d never met before wasn’t as frightening as Anya thought it was when she talked to Tatiana. Maybe something like marriage really was in her grasp. </p>
<p>If only he’d show up. </p>
<p>Anya checked her watch for the third time in under ten minutes. 9:16. He had said eight o’clock sharp. What could possibly be keeping him?</p>
<p>As Anya sat, slowly sipping at her wine, Dmitry and Vlad entered the small restaurant. Dmitry’s nerves were completely frayed, his hands trembling slightly. He took the letter he had written out of his pocket. “So, when you see her, just give her this,” Dmitry said, handing the letter to Vlad.</p>
<p>Vlad gaped at him and said, “What? No, we’re already here, give it to her yourself.” Dmitry scoffed. “You’ve waited this long to meet her. Why are you backing out now?” <em> Because what if she’s too good for me? What if she’s even more lovely and wonderful than I imagined, and I’m nothing in comparison.  </em></p>
<p>“I-I just can’t do this, Vlad.” Vlad must’ve seen Dmitry’s fears etched on his face, because he sighed and took the letter out of his hand. “Remember, she has a rose stuck in her book, <em> Pride and Prejudice. </em>” </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Vlad said, slowly making his way from table to table. He was near the back of the restaurant, no rose in book in sight, when he saw Miss Anya Romanov sitting alone, a solemn look on her face. And a rose sticking out of her book on the table. </p>
<p>Every single argument Anya and Dmitry ever had came to the forefront of Vlad’s mind, every insult and screaming match. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, but he knew Dmitry wouldn’t find it as funny. </p>
<p>Vlad hurried away before Anya could see him, Dmitry’s letter clutched in his fist. </p>
<p>“Well?” Dmitry asked. His face fell. “Oh, she’s old, isn’t she? She’s old and ugly and toothless.”</p>
<p>“What makes you assume that?” Vlad said.</p>
<p>“Because of the dreadful look on your face! That must mean there’s something wrong with her.” <em> Oh, if only you knew, </em> Vlad thought. </p>
<p>“Not necessarily… She’s rather attractive,” Vlad said, “she just looks <em> very </em>familiar.” </p>
<p>Dmitry brightened at that. “Does she look like one of those popular actresses? Or-”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Vlad interrupted. “You know, she actually looks like someone who <em> works with us </em>.” Confusion flashed over Dmitry’s face before horror set in. </p>
<p>“Miss Anya Romonav, my sworn enemy? I thought you said <em>attractive</em>,” Dmitry said. Yes, one could say Anya was attractive, Dmitry could admit that, but in a subtle way. Her beauty wasn’t something obvious; you had to look a little closer, dig a little deeper to see how bright she shined. Like how big her eyes would get whenever she was excited, or how her nose scrunched up when she was annoyed. How she smiled whenever Tatiana praised her, or how loving and gentle she was towards Alexei. </p>
<p>“Well I think so!” Vlad countered. “But I mean, if you don’t care for Miss Romanov, you sure aren’t going to like this girl.” Now Dmitry had to see for himself. </p>
<p>He made his way towards the back of the restaurant, careful not to let Dear Friend see him. Except it wasn’t Dear Friend. It was in fact Anya Romanov, a rose sticking out of a worn copy of <em> Pride and Prejudice </em>. Dmitry’s heart leapt into his throat, anger and confusion threatening to overtake him. </p>
<p>No. No, no, no, no. He could not have possibly been <em> in love </em>with Anya Romanov. No way. She couldn’t have possibly been the woman who perfectly knew his heart, who put tiny faces in her o’s, who read every single book in the library downtown. They hated each other. There was no room for love in whatever silly rivalry they had. But if she had really written all those letters… </p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh no.  </em>
</p>
<p>Dmitry Sudayev was in love with Anya Romanov. </p>
<p>The thought made him want to gag, but there was a truth to it. He loved Dear Friend and Anya <em> was </em>Dear Friend, meaning he loved Anya. He didn’t want it to make sense, didn’t want to accept it. So, he ran. </p>
<p>“Woah, you aren’t even going to talk to her?” Vlad asked, stopping Dmitry from fully fleeing the restaurant. </p>
<p>“What do you suggest I do, huh?” Dmitry choked out. “If she knew I was the idiot who wrote all those letters, she’d make me the laughing stock of the whole town.”</p>
<p>“Dima, the girl wrote her own fair share of letters. You aren’t the only idiot here.” </p>
<p>Dmitry looked back to Anya’s table. She looked at her watch, her face growing more sad by the second. He put that look on her face; he was currently making her miserable. Not that she hadn’t ever made him miserable. </p>
<p>Vlad handed Dmitry back his letter, straightened his tie. “Sit down, explain things to her. I know you hate the girl, but once you actually talk to her - not <em> argue </em> - she’s very lovely.” Dmitry resisted the urge to scoff. ‘Anya’ and ‘lovely’ didn’t usually go in the same sentence. But he really didn’t have much to lose. He already lost his job, and if things went sour, at least he wouldn’t have to see Anya ever again. </p>
<p>Dmitry stuffed his letter back into his pocket, took a deep breath, and slowly made his way back to Anya’s table. He looked over his shoulder to see Vlad bolting through the door. He wished he could do the same. </p>
<p>The closer he got to the table, the more he realized he couldn’t ever introduce himself as Dear Friend. Even if he did manage to explain, even if she believed whatever lie he would tell, she wouldn’t accept him as Dear Friend. Hopefully she would accept him as Dmitry Sudayev. </p>
<p>She did not. </p>
<p>The moment Anya saw him, her expression morphed from sadness into extreme disgust and terror. Dmitry swallowed his pride and anger as he clenched his fists. </p>
<p>“Mr. Sudayev, what are you doing here?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Celebrating,” he said, not very convincingly. “How about you?” Dmitry inwardly cringed; it would take a miracle for her to believe whatever excuse would fall from his mouth. </p>
<p>She gestured towards the empty seat across from her. The empty seat Dmitry should be occupying. “If it wasn’t obvious, I’m on a date.” He risked looking straight at her, expecting to see a completely different Anya Romanov. She looked exactly the same, except her hair was a little more curly, her makeup a little more precise. Despite his grand revelation, he didn’t really see her any differently. She was still the same stubborn, bratty girl who conned her way into a job. </p>
<p>Maybe that meant he had been in love with her for longer than he knew. </p>
<p>The thought was incredibly terrifying. </p>
<p>“Oh, well do you mind if I join you for a moment?” Dmitry asked, already sitting down. </p>
<p>Anya leaned over the table and swatted his arm. “Mr. Sudayev, please leave. This night has already been rather stressful, and I do not need you to add to it.” </p>
<p>“You won’t help me celebrate my freedom?” Dmitry asked, a sly smirk on his face. He’d see if he was truly in love with her. By being as annoying as possible. </p>
<p>“Your freedom?” </p>
<p>“Well, you see Miss Romanov, tomorrow is Wednesday and I will be sleeping in as late as I want,” Dmitry explained. She looked slightly guilty and looked away from him. “Lily doesn’t dictate my schedule anymore and for that I am grateful.” </p>
<p>Dmitry quickly grabbed the wine bottle from Anya’s side of the table and filled up his glass, completely ignoring her protests. </p>
<p>“Mr. Sudayev! If you do not leave this instant, I will call the waiter,” Anya threatened. The waiter suddenly materialized next to the table, a look of restrained annoyance on his face. “Oh! There you are. Sir-”</p>
<p>“Ma’am,” the waiter said. He looked incredibly tired. Dmitry sipped at his wine so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. “Look around you. Look at all the couples - the <em> quiet </em>couples - here on dates. If you and your husband cannot quiet down-” </p>
<p>Anya looked disgusted. “This man is not my husband,” she said, pointing at Dmitry. He waved at the waiter, poured himself more wine. “I’m waiting for someone else. He isn’t even supposed to be here.” </p>
<p>The waiter sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but a very loud crash could be heard from the kitchen. The poor man looked like he was about to cry as he ran off towards the cause. Dmitry couldn’t hold in his laughter as Anya glared at him. Multiple people shushed him, but he didn’t really care. </p>
<p>Though he was antagonizing the woman he unfortunately happened to be in love with, he was having a rather nice time. But the night was still young. </p>
<p>As Anya seethed in silence, Dmitry asked, “You said you’re here on a date, Miss Romanov? I don’t recall you ever saying you were seeing someone.” The red in Anya’s cheeks deepened as she sucked in a breath. He was having slightly too much fun messing with her. </p>
<p>“I never thought it was important, as sharing personal details was never in my job description.” </p>
<p>Dmitry clicked his tongue. “It just doesn’t seem right for a man to keep such a lovely young lady waiting all alone.” He wished he could lie about Anya being a lovely lady, because Vlad was unfortunately right; she <em> could </em> be lovely on some occasions. Not right now, of course, but in general. He was almost surprised by how quickly his judgement had shifted. </p>
<p>Anya gasped. “He must’ve seen us together! Oh, he must think we’re on a date and left. If you have ruined this for me, Mr. Sudayev, I will <em> never </em>forgive you.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. If he were being honest, Dmitry would be too. </p>
<p>Maybe he was being slightly too obnoxious. </p>
<p>“Well,” Dmitry said, “if he’s as dear a friend as you say he is, then he wouldn’t doubt your affections.” Anya looked at him, shocked that he could be serious for a single moment. She couldn’t help how her heart tripped at his choice of words. ‘Dear’ and ‘friend’ too close together always messed her up more than those two tiny words should have. </p>
<p>Maybe he should leave. </p>
<p>“Dm- Mr. Sudayev, please will you leave? Haven’t you caused enough damage for one day?” </p>
<p><em> Actually </em> , Dmitry thought, <em> I think I’ll stay. </em>If she was going to be rude, he would be so utterly annoying that she’d never fall in love with him. That would show her. Dmitry didn’t know how, but it would. </p>
<p>Dmitry glanced at her copy of <em> Pride and Prejudice </em>, picked it up. Anya almost lunged across the table, but Dmitry held it high above his head, out of her reach. </p>
<p>“I didn’t know you were such a reader, Miss Romanov.” </p>
<p>“I didn’t know you knew what a book was, Mr. Sudayev.” Dmitry pretended her words didn’t affect him, as he had their entire relationship, but every now and then her words would stick to him like tiny little cactus needles. </p>
<p>Dmitry snatched the rose out from the top cover. “Oh, what’s this?”   </p>
<p>“Give that back!” </p>
<p>Dmitry faked a gasp. “Miss Romanov, have you ever even met this man you’re meeting?” Anya opened and closed her mouth multiple times, but no words would come out. “You know, I had a friend who was a member of - what is it called? - a lonely hearts’ club! She and this one man had sent letters back and forth for months and agreed to meet in person.” Anya looked like she was two seconds from smacking him, and remembering that morning, she probably would. “She was to have a flower in her book, and he was to have the same flower in his lapel. And then the next day the police found her leg floating down the Neva. Unfortunately, they never found the rest of her, or her book.” </p>
<p>Anya’s face fell, displaying the sadness Dmitry had seen before he sat down. Then it morphed into an anger he’d never seen on her before. It was almost kind of frightening. </p>
<p>“I am going to count to five, Mr. Sudayev, and if you are not gone from this table, I will <em> scream. </em>” The fury in her voice made Dmitry’s stomach drop. “One.” </p>
<p>“Miss Romanov, please, I just want to speak with you-”</p>
<p>“Don’t forget I’ve been here for almost two hours, so I’ve had plenty of wine and nothing to eat since noon.” </p>
<p>“Miss Romanov, I think you’re drunk. If we just-” Anya held up two fingers as she gulped down the rest of her wine. Dmitry knew he brought it upon himself, which made this even more frustrating. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat down, or maybe he should have actually introduced himself as Dear Friend. But Anya was already incredibly angry, and if she even thought he was making fun of her, she’d kill him on the spot. </p>
<p>“You are perhaps the most insensitive man alive!” She was raising her voice and multiple patrons were beginning to stare, but Dmitry thought that was the point. “Three.” </p>
<p>As much as he thought annoying her would get rid of any possible feelings, it was only doing the opposite. She was screaming at him - which he rightfully deserved - but he didn’t feel any hatred towards her anymore. Annoyance, yes. But perhaps he never did hate her. Perhaps from the moment she walked into the shop, helped Dmitry lose his bet with Lily, and secured a job for herself in ten minutes flat, he was already long gone. </p>
<p>If only he realized that much, much sooner. </p>
<p>“You’re being awfully loud,” Dmitry muttered. </p>
<p>Anya threw up her arms. “Well, I have to be, don’t I? It seems I’m always fighting for my life with you. So, please, for the very last time, will you go?” She seemed so desperate for him to leave so his alter ego could show up and sweep her off her feet. How disgusted she’d be if she knew Dear Friend was actually him. “Four.” Dmitry stayed rooted to his seat. “Five.” </p>
<p>Anya let out a wail, almost like a siren. Everyone in the small restaurant looked in their direction, questioning why a young woman could possibly be screaming. </p>
<p>The sad waiter from before marched up to their table. </p>
<p>“That’s it!” he cried. “Get out! I don’t care where you two go, but <em> please </em>, get out of my restaurant. I won’t have you screaming like lunatics-”</p>
<p>Dmitry stood up so fast, he almost knocked his chair over. Anya buried her face in her hands, the tips of her ears very red. “How dare you speak to a young lady like that!” Dmitry demanded. </p>
<p>Anya lifted her head slightly. She looked shocked, like she never expected him to come to her defense. Dmitry didn’t really expect it either; it was a simple instinct. </p>
<p>“Young ladies don’t scream in cafes,” the waiter countered. </p>
<p>“You don’t understand,” Dmitry started, unsure of where he was going with this. “There was… a fly in the wine.” Anya stared at him, her face the reddest he’s ever seen. He looked at her, hoping she’d follow along. </p>
<p>“A what?”</p>
<p>“I said a <em> fly </em> in the <em> wine! </em>” Dmitry shouted. Multiple patrons ducked their heads, unwilling to see an utter embarrassment like this go down. “And well, you see, the lady unfortunately… swallowed it.” The waiter looked to Anya. She thumped her chest with her fist, letting out a very weak cough. </p>
<p>The waiter let out a small scream of his own, snatching the wine bottle from their table, and went back into the kitchen. Another loud crash could be heard as soon as he disappeared. </p>
<p>Dmitry sank back down into his seat. He just wanted the evening to be over now; he was exceptionally tired. </p>
<p>“I suppose I should thank you for coming to my defense like that,” Anya muttered. “But haven’t you had enough revenge for one night? I simply don’t understand why you’d go through all this trouble just to teach me a lesson.” </p>
<p>Dmitry sighed. “How could you understand, Miss Romanov? You have never listened to me or taken me seriously. I doubt you’ve ever truly looked at me.” </p>
<p>Anya refused to look him in the eye as she said, “Oh, trust me, I’ve looked at you. Shall I tell you what I see?” Dmitry knew it was a rhetorical question, but he would rather not hear her very low opinion of him. He didn’t think his heart could take it. “I see a man who’s very sure of himself, who thinks he can take on the world if someone gave him the chance. But in reality, he’s just a not very nice, not very smart, not very handsome man who thinks it’s fun to ruin other people’s lives with absolutely no remorse!” Anya’s voice cracked slightly and her eyes shone with unshed tears. And it was all Dmitry’s fault. </p>
<p>Dmitry didn’t even bother trying to argue; she was right. He got up out of his seat, finally accepting Anya’s wishes, and slowly made his way out of the restaurant. </p>
<p>“Wait, Mr. Sudayev,” Anya called out. He paused. “I didn’t mean <em> all </em> of those things.” He didn’t have to look at her to know she had started crying. Dmitry wanted to cry himself. “Mr. Sudayev…” </p>
<p>Dmitry continued walking. He took out the now very lifeless rose from his pocket. It looked as lifeless as he felt. As he left the restaurant, Dmitry dropped the rose and trudged home. </p>
<p>Anya felt so ashamed. She knew she had a temper, but it had never been so bad before. She couldn’t even say it was all Dmitry’s fault. She was angry at Dear Friend too. He had kept her waiting for over two hours, doing who knew what. He probably forgot about her and scheduled a date with another woman.  </p>
<p>And poor Dmitry. He had already had a very stressful day, and yet Anya made it even worse. She always managed to stick her foot in with Dmitry, no matter what. As troubling as he could be, he didn’t deserve that. Maybe she should go after him…</p>
<p><em> No, </em>she thought. They both needed time alone to cool off. But the chances of Anya ever seeing him again were very slim. Perhaps it was for the better. That way they wouldn’t kill each other. </p>
<p>Anya hated how much her heart hurt. She had worried so much about this date and in the end it was even worse than her worst fears. She should have thrived in such a romantic setting; she was the textbook definition of a hopeless romantic. Apparently the universe put too much emphasis on the hopeless part. </p>
<p>Anya checked her watch again. 10:38. She knew in her heart that Dear Friend wasn’t coming. Why would he? Anya couldn’t really say she was anything special. She wasn’t the most beautiful of all her sisters, or the smartest, or the wittiest. She didn’t even have the adorable charm that Alexei had. She was just… the odd one out. Well, if anything, she was the most stubborn. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re closing,” a waitress said. Anya nodded, not trusting her voice. “I’ll try to sneak some cake from the kitchen for you.” Anya knew she meant it as a kind gesture, but she couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing. </p>
<p>“That’s very kind of you,” Anya croaked out, “but no thank you.” The waitress smiled sadly at her and left for the kitchen. Her smile was the last straw as Anya promptly burst into tears. </p>
<p>Anya knew she couldn’t be very surprised. Hardly anyone has a happy ending from a lonely hearts’ club. Why did she expect to be different? </p>
<p><em> Because </em> Dear Friend <em> was different.  </em></p>
<p>He was kind and smart and thoughtful, and never what Anya had in mind for herself. He was different in the best way possible, and despite never seeing each other, he actually <em> saw </em>Anya for all that she was. </p>
<p>She thought back to Dmitry’s words: <em> I doubt you’ve ever truly looked at me.  </em></p>
<p>The truth was she had indeed looked at him, more often than she should’ve. From the moment she walked into the shop, he made her heart hammer in a way she had never experienced before. Except maybe when she first started her correspondence with Dear Friend. At first she thought it was out of anger, but as time went on, she thought she could actually <em> like </em>him. Not anymore. Not after tonight. After tonight, no one held her heart except herself. </p>
<p>She repeated the thought like a mantra all the way back home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. act two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At first, they just swayed, but either Anya got braver or Dmitry, and soon he was twirling her away from him just for her to come right back into his arms. Anya giggled and Dmitry laughed along with her. </p>
<p>“I thought you said you were a terrible dancer,” Anya said, soft so only Dmitry could hear. </p>
<p>“Well, I was,” Dmitry replied. I was until you. He finally understood what Lily meant all those months ago. Even though he wasn’t a dancer, Anya made him feel like one. She was the one he wanted to share all his dances with. Anya’s breath hitched, like she could hear his thoughts. And maybe he wanted her to.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and act two!! anya and dmitry are idiots your honor but i love them so much</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alexei was stressed. The doctors still hadn’t given him permission to see Lily yet and wouldn’t tell him anything about her condition. He may not be her blood family, but he was certainly family enough to know how she was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was pacing back and forth in the waiting room when Dmitry arrived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alexei, what happened? Is Lily okay?” he asked. He looked exhausted with dark bags underneath his eyes and his usually perfect hair was a mess. Maybe everyone had a rough night last night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> will tell me anything,” Alexei said, loud enough so the doctors and nurses would hear him. “I haven’t spoken to her since last night when I brought her here.” Dmitry ruffled Alexei’s hair and went to speak with the woman at the front desk. Alexei resumed his pacing as Dmitry and the woman were in a heated conversation. Alexei almost thought they would get kicked out when a doctor entered the waiting room and told them they could finally see Lily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexei entered the room first. Dmitry lingered in the doorway, unsure if he was truly welcomed or not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both very relieved to see that Lily looked perfectly fine, if a little pale. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I owe both of you boys an explanation,” Lily said. Dmitry fully entered the room, standing behind the chair Alexei was sitting in. “Dmitry.” He expected her tone to be icy and cold, but for the first time in months, Lily said his name with warmth and affection. He let himself bask in the feeling. “The way I’ve treated you has been unacceptable. I believed you to be a conman, working with my husband to rob me of all my money.” The warm and fuzzy feeling in Dmitry’s chest dissipated and his jaw dropped in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- Lily, I- How could? I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Dmitry stammered. Lily held her hand up to silence him. Well, everything was officially back to normal now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snapped, “I know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But an anonymous tip said the little backstabber was a hardworking, faithful employee, and I assumed it was you. That’s why I acted so cold towards you. I know better now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Alexei,” Lily continued, “I know how hard you’ve been working. I know it’s not fair to deny you a promotion. I just remember you as a tiny young intern, and… I didn’t want to risk losing you if you became some big hot shot. Never tell your sisters this, but you’re my favorite Romanov.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexei smiled. Dmitry felt like a ten ton weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was nice to know he wasn’t being a terrible employee; in fact, it was the opposite. He was so good at his job, Lily assumed he had been conning her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, for the reason I asked both of you here: I am going to need some time to recover. I will not be present at the shop, and, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>needs to run the place.” Lily looked to Dmitry. “Will you accept the position as acting manager, Mr. Sudayev?” Lily asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry puffed out his chest and said, “I won’t let you down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. And as for you, Mr. Romanov.” Alexei beamed at the use of his last name. Only his parents’ friends called him Mr. Romanov, and most of the time it was used mockingly. “Someone will need to replace Gleb after he is fired.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fired?” Alexei asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry put two and two together. “He was the one stealing from you.” A lot of things made sense to Dmitry now. Why Gleb never seemed to have money problems, even after not making a single sale all day. Why he would ditch Tatiana seemingly out of the blue; it wasn’t another woman, it was Lily’s husband he was meeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lily confirmed. “Not incredibly shocking once I gave it some thought, but disappointing all the same.” Her eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment. Maybe her disappointment wasn’t really targeted towards Gleb at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexei seemed to come to the same conclusion as he asked, “And what about your husband? What about all the money he was stealing from you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fog in Lily’s eyes dissipated. She was back in the present now. “Nevermind him, he’s none of your boys’ concern. Trust me, I will take care of him.” The three of them shared a wicked look and then promptly burst out laughing. It was the closest Dmitry had felt to Lily in so long. He didn’t realize how much he missed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After giving Dmitry the key to the shop and giving each boy a hug that felt both too short and way too long, Alexei and Dmitry left the hospital. They were about halfway to the shop when something made Alexei stop short. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I completely forget to tell Lily. Anya won’t be in today, our nanna says she’s sick.” Dmitry couldn’t help but perk up at the mention of Anya. With all the commotion of getting a call from the hospital and making it there as quickly as he could, he forgot all about his fight with Anya. He saw the ice cream shop they stopped in front of and an idea formed in his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, take the key and open up. I’ll visit An- Miss Romanov to see how she’s feeling. I might even bring her some ice cream,” Dmitry said. He avoided the look Alexei gave him, knew he wasn’t being very discreet at all. But something in him told him he needed to see her again, away from work and nosy coworkers. If he could somehow make amends, maybe they could move on and become friends. Dear friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect!” Alexei said, his tone not at all subtle. “My sister Olga happens to work at this ice cream shop. I’m sure she’d love to know you’re getting her baby sister some ice cream.” Dmitry’s expression morphed from sly and cunning to downright horrified. Every single Romanov was going to be the death of him.  </span>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Anya had barely slept last night. Flashes of the evening kept coming to her, the awful things Mr. Sudayev had said, the insults she hurled right back at him. The disappointment she had felt so deeply when Dear Friend never showed. Nanna had taken one look at her and called the shop to say Anya wouldn’t be at work today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The warmth of her bed and the promise of hot cocoa was enough to make Anya obey her grandmother. Also the pounding headache made it hard to effectively argue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was about to finally drift off to sleep when a knock on her bedroom door made Anya jolt up. “Miss Romanov?” a voice asked. It sounded familiar but Anya couldn’t quite place it. “Miss Romanov, are you awake?” Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr. Sudayev.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His tone was more gentle than she ever remembered hearing it. Anya wrapped her blanket around herself and opened the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you get in my apartment?” she asked. She expected some witty remark that would make her want to slap him. Instead, he just smiled sheepishly and said that her grandmother let him in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She assumed I was a dear friend rather than a hated coworker.” The words ‘dear friend’ made Anya’s head spin. “I hope I’m not intruding.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no come in, I suppose.” Dmitry laughed. Normally, she would have asked him what was so funny, but her heart wasn’t in it. If she was being honest, she truly hated arguing with him, but he just made it so </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“How’d you even know I was here and not at work?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A blush spread over Dmitry’s cheeks. He rarely blushed around her. It made him look younger, more boyish. Also slightly cute. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her fever was messing with her head. Mr. Sudayev? Cute? Well…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anya scolded herself. It was just her fever. That’s all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, as of this morning, I’m back at Malevsky-Malevitch’s. As acting manager.” His smile widened and Anya felt a rush of pride. Dmitry hadn’t had it easy his last couple of months, and Anya had truly felt sorry when he was fired yesterday. She couldn’t help but smile with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re here to see if I’m actually sick,” Anya accused. His smile faded and she could see an old spark of resentment flash in his eyes. But it quickly died down, as if Anya had imagined it. “Well, Mr. Sudayev, I assure you I am feeling more than well enough to go into work today.” She grabbed his arm to check his watch. “I won’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>late.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya marched to her closet, hoping to find an outfit already put together. Her dress from last night lay crumpled at the bottom, the fine blue velvet wrinkled and ruined. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Miss Romanov, that’s not what I-” Dmitry began to say. Anya didn’t want to hear any of it. If he wanted to continue their game, add to the horrendous injury that was last night, Anya wouldn’t stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, where did my shoe go? Mr. Sudayev, will you help me find my shoe?” She found one, slipped it on, but couldn’t find its match. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How ironic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. Two things missing their partner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya began to tear her room apart, wondering where on earth her shoe had gone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If I were a shoe, where would I be? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, it was quite obvious she’d be on her foot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Romanov-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, but what would she wear to work? It had been some time since she’d done any laundry but maybe she could throw a nice sweater on over an old dress of hers. But what if it wasn’t cold enough for a sweater? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the middle of December, of course it’s cold enough,” she muttered. Dmitry stood helpless by her bed. His brow was furrowed and he kept trying to make her stop and lie down. “Mr. Sudayev, I’m fine.” Anya waved her arms above her head and bounced like she was about to do a cartwheel. “See? There’s nothing wrong with me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Romanov, you’re not feeling well. You need to lie down.” His tone was gentle but firm. It made Anya hesitate for a moment. Did he genuinely care about her wellbeing? No, that couldn’t be it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya stood on top of her bed, hoping to find her shoe from a higher vantage point. Her head felt light as she wobbled, and she almost lost her balance twice. Dmitry hovered near her, ready to catch her in case she fell. Anya just ignored the way her heart stuttered, focused on searching for her hat. Or was it her shoe? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anya</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re sick,” Dmitry said. His use of her first name caught her by surprise. Anya knew it was just her fever (not that she was sick, she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>), but she almost believed that he cared. Mr. Sudayev did not care about Miss Romanov. That wasn’t their relationship. He couldn’t… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. No, he just wanted to tell their coworkers how she didn’t care about her job, that she refused to work late last night and now lied about being sick. He couldn’t care about her like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she said. She bounced on her bed, preparing to land back on the floor, but Dmitry’s arms around her startled her. His hands were on her hips as he practically slung her over his shoulder. Anya grasped onto his shoulders, too angry to dwell on how sturdy they were. “Put me down!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry released her immediately, and Anya landed on her bed. She barely registered the tears streaming down her face, the sobs wracking her body. She was just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her lack of sleep was catching up with her, as was the emotional exhaustion she carried since last night. And now Dmitry was in her home, like he didn’t cause her enough pain already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard the crinkle of a paper bag, felt Dmitry help her sit up, felt a small container being placed in her hand. “Vanilla ice cream,” he explained. “The best thing in the world when you’re sick.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A peace offering. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That’s why he stopped by: to make amends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya realized with slight horror that she wanted so badly to take the olive branch he was extending. But why? Why now, after all the insults and attacks over the past months? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opened the packaging to see the neat scrawl of the ice cream parlor’s name, the one Olga worked at. “Oh, my sister works here. Maybe she waited on you.” She hoped that Olga did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>wait on Dmitry. As much as she loved her eldest sister, she knew that if Dmitry took one look at her, he’d fall in love immediately. Not that Anya </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared </span>
  </em>
  <span>about whom Dmitry loved. Not that it was any of her business. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A rather tall woman? Blonde hair?” Dmitry asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, thank god. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya laughed. “Oh, no. She’s even shorter than me if you can believe it. She looks exactly like my mother, which I always tease her about. It’s so funny, she gets so mad about it.” She looked up at Dmitry, startled by how soft his smile was. She had never seen him smile like that. Anya cleared her throat, opened up the small carton. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first spoonful of cold ice cream was almost enough to cure Anya. It soothed her slightly scratchy throat, filled her empty stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya could almost imagine her and Dear Friend going to Olga’s ice cream parlor, eating and talking for hours and hours. She would introduce him to Olga, not worried about him falling in love because he was already in love with Anya. Maybe if things had gone according to plan last night, she could have shown off a beautiful ring to her sister. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly the ice cream tasted different. “Oh, there’s something wrong with this ice cream,” Anya complained. “There’s so much salt.” Dmitry chuckled, causing Anya to glare at him. Of course it was a trick, a ruse to make her feel stupid. Mr. Sudayev couldn’t possibly- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, are you surprised? With all those tears falling in, it’s bound to taste salty.” Anya sniffed, wiped her eyes. She didn’t even realize that she started crying again. She was almost embarrassed that Dmitry was there to witness her in such emotional distress, but he had already seen her at her lowest point and decided she was worth checking up on anyway. Maybe he cared more than Anya wanted to see. “Uh, wh- why cry at all?” he asked, almost like he already knew the answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t want to tell him. She couldn’t admit out loud that he was right; that she was stood up by a complete and total stranger. She could hardly admit it to herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya slumped forward, causing Dmitry to sit down on the bed next to her, ready to catch her. She repositioned herself so she was leaning on his shoulder, pretending that she didn’t notice him tense up. The ice cream carton sat between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I truly am very sorry for what happened last night,” Dmitry said. He wouldn’t look at her, preferring to stare a hole into his shoes. “I was completely out of line, and you didn’t deserve that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, the world was officially ending if Dmitry Sudayev was apologizing to Anya. But he had already extended his hand; Anya just needed to extend hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you assumed I hadn’t met the man I was meeting, you were right,” Anya said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We only communicate by letters.” And such glorious letters they were. Anya felt her heart ache for a time when they didn’t have to worry about meeting, when they could truly just be themselves. Now that was probably all gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long did you wait?” Dmitry asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya hesitated before saying, “Since closing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry muttered, darkly, “I feel very responsible.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Mr. Sudayev. I guess I just got my hopes up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He became even more tense as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his coat. “Well, I-I’m sure he had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason</span>
  </em>
  <span> for standing you up. He wouldn’t have just looked at you and left.” Anya laughed bitterly. She knew that was exactly what happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I doubt that, Mr. Sudayev. If he cared at all,” her voice cracked slightly, “he would explain himself. He would write and give a valid reason for not showing.” She was on the verge of crying yet again. Dear Friend had seemed to be the only person who actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anya, knew all her quirks and faults. One look at her and that was enough to ruin everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry stood up so fast, Anya almost fell off her bed. “Miss Romanov, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>write to you.” He said it with such conviction that Anya almost believed him. But she was done with daydreams and hopes for the future, at least where romance was involved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate your optimism, but I sincerely doubt it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not just guessing,” Dmitry said, so low she almost missed. “I know it definitely.” Anya’s heart stopped. She stared at him in disbelief, desperate for him to elaborate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All she could say was a faint, “How?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry’s face turned red and his eyes widened. He fumbled over his words for a moment before saying, “B-because… because he told me himself.” He smiled, turned towards Anya, and said, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he told me himself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya couldn’t breathe. She had waited hours and hours to meet this man, and her sworn enemy met him just like that. She wanted to be angry, but she was desperate for answers. She needed to know why he stood her up. Even if that meant Dmitry now knew all her business. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what exactly did he say?” Anya asked. Dmitry’s face fell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-well I don’t remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he said…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya grabbed Dmitry by the lapels of his coat and pulled him forward so their noses almost touched. She ignored how red his face was, if only so she could ignore the blush growing on her own face. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Try</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she said, then released him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves. The longer he stammered, the more Anya thought he was lying. Maybe he felt bad about last night and wanted to make her feel better. Maybe he just wanted to embarrass her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, as I was leaving the cafe, I thought someone was following me. So I turn around and there’s this </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A young man?” Anya asked, remembering her conversation with Tatiana. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry hesitated before saying, “A man.” Anya deflated slightly, but kept her attention on Dmitry. “He asked, uh… about the woman I was sitting with, about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he asked if we were on a date, so of course I say no, no she’s waiting for someone else. So he told me that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one you were waiting for, but h-he had to leave on… urgent business. Yes! Urgent business.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya felt lighter than she had in the past week. Dear Friend didn’t stand her up; this thing between them wasn’t as ruined as Anya thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, is he a manufacturer, or maybe a shop owner?” Anya asked, leaning closer to Dmitry with each word. She was too excited to see Dmitry’s pupils grow incredibly wide, or to see his gaze drop to her lips then quickly back to her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, he certainly looked well-fed.” Anya would have missed the hidden meaning to his words if Dmitry hadn’t pantomimed a large, round body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A brief flash of disappointment rang through Anya, but she quickly stamped it out. How incredibly shallow of her! She had told Tatiana it didn’t matter to her what Dear Friend looked like, she would accept him as he was. Truly, only one thing mattered in terms of his appearance…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, how old did he look? Because the advertisement said ‘young man’, and I would want to know if I’m dating a liar.” Anya hoped Dmitry couldn’t see the desperation in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dmitry was not even looking at her as he blushed so violently at her comment about them dating, feeling warmer than he had every right to feel on a mid-December morning. Not that she even knew it was him, of course, but ever since his revelation at the restaurant last night, he unfortunately couldn’t stop thinking about Anya Romanov. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even know fully why he continued to lie to her. If she knew who he truly was, she’d probably want nothing to do with him. And yet, they were existing in each other’s space, barely arguing at all. She could’ve thrown him out, but she didn’t. Maybe he lied as a sort of test; if she could accept someone who wouldn’t exactly be described as conventionally attractive, she could accept him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the sake of his own heart, he hoped she was that shallow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, it was dark, and he had a very long day, emotionally at least, so I’d say maybe…” Dmitry pretended to think it over, wondering how high he should go in order to throw Anya. “Early sixties?” She let out a squeak as she fell face down onto her bed. Dmitry tried his hardest not to laugh. “You know, it would’ve been easier to tell if he had some hair.” Anya’s squeak turned into a groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took Anya a few moments to compose herself, finally sitting up. She looked rather miserable. “You must think I’m incredibly shallow, Mr. Sudayev, and I honestly don’t blame you. I just had this idea of what he looked like in my head, you know?” Anya chuckled, “I actually imagined he looked a bit like you-” And just like that, the lighthearted atmosphere around them grew tense as Anya’s eyes widened to the size of the moon. “Forget I said that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry’s smile was soft, and Anya tried her hardest not to stare directly at his mouth. He mimed zipping up his mouth and throwing away the key. It was only slightly adorable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter though?” Dmitry asked. He sounded rather shy. “I mean, I thought you said you were in love with him.” Anya, in fact, did not say that, but Dmitry knew by her carefully chosen words that it was true. She had never outright told him or Dear Friend that she loved him, but it was almost common knowledge between the two penpals. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I am. I’m ridiculously in love with him,” Anya said, almost sounding surprised. It made Dmitry stop breathing. “And you’re right, it shouldn’t matter at all. What matters are the letters he wrote. What matters is the way we both feel, not the way we look. And my parents aren’t the closest in age, but they love each other very much.” The more Anya spoke, the more she realized she was trying to convince herself more than Dmitry. She already loved him; this was just a minor bump in the road. So why did she feel incredibly disappointed that Dmitry and Dear Friend were not one in the same? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, that couldn’t be it. She was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Dmitry, he continuously ruined her life. She couldn’t be in love with him… right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, I’m sure if you and Dear Friend talk things over, it’ll all be okay,” Dmitry said, sounding rather disappointed himself. His words sparked an idea into Anya’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh of course! I’ll just write a letter explaining everything. He’ll know I’m not angry since he had business, and everything will be okay.” Anya grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil from her desk. “As soon as I’m done I’ll be right at the shop.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry laughed. “Anya, you’re still sick. You don’t have to go into work today, it’s fine. Just get some rest.” They looked at each other for a moment; Anya believed she could find the answer to her question in his eyes. Then Dmitry cleared his throat and looked away, shattering the moment. As he was about to leave her bedroom, he stopped and asked, “Oh, uh, did you like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pride and Prejudice</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya almost laughed at how common the question was. Like they were having a casual conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I finished it so long ago, but it never fails to open my eyes a little bit. Well, almost never fails,” Anya answered. Dmitry chuckled. Maybe this was what everyone at the shop meant when they said Mr. Sudayev wasn’t all that bad. Maybe she was just blinded like Elizabeth Bennet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He seemed to hesitate before saying, “I think my favorite thing about it is how despite the arguing, Elizabeth and Darcy fell in love by communicating and changing for the better. Even though they were at odds, they still managed to find the good in each other.” It was such a weighted response that there was no way for Anya to miss his hidden meaning. But he couldn’t have meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>were Elizabeth and Darcy. He wasn’t in love with her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Sudayev,” Anya said, speaking without thinking. “I like you. I really do.” She hoped that was enough to convey all the confusing and complex things she was feeling. He smiled and left her bedroom, leaving Anya alone with her thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tried to begin her letter to Dear Friend, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t the sole owner of her heart anymore. Dmitry had not very gracefully crashed into her life, but he challenged her. He helped make her better, though it didn’t seem like it at first. If only it hadn’t taken them six months to get it right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it wasn’t fair to Dear Friend. How could she assume he was with another woman last night when she herself was with another man? Though, if Anya thought long and hard about it, there were similarities between Dear Friend and Dmitry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that was impossible. Wasn’t it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anya told herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll never like you like that anyway. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her focus shifted to the forgotten carton of ice cream sitting on her bed. He had brought her ice cream. He had figured out she was sick and brought her ice cream. Maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be her Mr. Darcy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let that thought consume her as she wrote her letter and drifted into a peaceful sleep.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry couldn’t help the smile that graced his features the entire walk to the shop. She loved him. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Granted, Anya didn’t know it, but the fact still remained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He found it almost impressive how quickly everything had changed. First he couldn’t even stand her; then he swore that he would never have her as a friend, let alone a lover; and he claimed he knew her too well, when in fact, he didn’t know her at all. But now he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>know her, faults and all, and still he wanted her. Of course he wanted her. After all this, after every letter sent, every secret shared, every small interaction that at the time meant nothing, he’d be stupid not to want her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was an invigorating feeling to love and be loved in return. Dmitry felt like anything was possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But how would he tell her? She had said she didn’t like liars and, well, all Dmitry had done over the past two days was lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe she’d understand, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice that sounded eerily similar to Vlad echoed. Maybe she could see past the lies to see the reason. He was scared of her judgment, didn’t want the full sting of rejection to hit him, wanted to test the waters and see if they could exist in each other’s space. Dmitry knew well enough she’d only see them as the excuses they were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to stay hopeful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s got you smiling like a fool? I thought you were fired yesterday,” Gleb said as Dmitry entered the shop. All the happiness that was bubbling in his chest died down as Gleb lazily set up his station. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dmitry had to fire him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, I got my job back. And a promotion as well.” Gleb chuckled but didn’t say a word. It angered Dmitry more now than it would ever have had before. “Do you know where Miss Romanov is?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Break room. Chatting away with Popov like we don’t open soon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry bit back an insult and went into the break room. There he found Tatiana Romanov lying face down on the table with an awkward looking Vlad hovering near her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I interrupting anything?” Dmitry asked, genuinely confused. Tatiana rose with a start, gasped, and flung herself into Dmitry’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re back!” Dmitry laughed as he hugged her back. “You smell like my sister. Why do you smell like my sister?” Dmitry blushed from head to toe; he usually forgot how observant Tatiana could be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, she’s sick so I went to check up on her.” Tatiana raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any further questions. It wasn’t even a lie yet Dmitry felt like he just got caught doing something wrong. Maybe everyone already knew about his feelings for Anya, had assumed they liked each other since the beginning like Vlad did. Oh, they were both incredibly dense. “Well, I’ll, uh, let you get back to… whatever. I need to go fire Gleb.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Vlad and Tatiana exclaimed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a long story, don’t worry about it.” Dmitry left the break room, leaving Tatiana and Vlad alone again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana scoffed. “Don’t worry about it,” she mocked. “Like I shouldn’t worry about what he’s doing with my baby sister.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vlad laughed, loud and boisterous at that. “I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s too awkward to ever try anything unless he knows Anya’s feelings as well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God help them both.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana slumped back onto the table, her excitement over seeing Dmitry again gone completely. She was just so tired and confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where were we? You were at the library?” Vlad asked. Tatiana hummed in response. “Well, how did you like it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was very intimidating,” Tatiana said, voice muffled. With her dyslexia, reading was always a struggle for her. She just didn’t understand how Anya and Olga loved books so much when they were nothing but nonsense to her. “I don’t even know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>I got there. My feet just started carrying me around town.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had wandered around the whole building, hoping for any comfort in the things her sisters loved so much. But she wasn’t like Anya and Olga. They found the joy and beauty in the smallest of things, but Tatiana liked to splurge and dress up and be swept off her feet. That was why she found Gleb so exciting at first; he spared no expense to show her a good time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was there for maybe an hour when this </span>
  <em>
    <span>man </span>
  </em>
  <span>approached me. At first I just pretended I didn’t hear him, in case he was a creep, but then he asked if I needed any help, and I… no one had asked me what I needed before,” Tatiana said. She lifted her head up from the table and had a faraway look in her eye. As much as she loved her family, Tatiana never really had the chance to be an individual. She and Maria were usually lumped together being the two middle sisters, and got whatever Olga, Anya, and Alexei wanted. And of course Gleb rarely, if ever, asked for her opinion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She learned that the man’s name was Paul and he was an optometrist. They spent almost the whole night together - “Not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Vlad. Get your mind out of the gutter!” - talking and learning everything about each other. She even confessed to having dyslexia, to which Paul offered to read to her. The offer made her turn as red as a tomato. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He assured me it wasn’t out of pity. He said he wanted to share his love of reading with me, and oh, Vlad, I think he’s the one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one? But you just met him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana sighed. “I know. But Anya doesn’t even know the name of the man she claims to be in love with and-” She cut herself off by clamping her hand over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vlad gaped at her. “So she doesn’t know?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana gaped right back at him. “Doesn’t know what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That Dmitry is the man she’s been writing letters to!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know she’s been writing letters to someone?” Vlad stared at her until she put the pieces together. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dmitry </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the man she’s been writing letters to?” Vlad groaned. He didn’t know why he expected the boy to actually tell Anya the truth, but he was disappointed nonetheless. “Oh God, they were supposed to go on a date last night. I would never have heard the end of it if Dmitry was supposed to be her date.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He probably didn’t even talk to her about the letters, the idiot. He had been insecure about last night all day yesterday. You’d think he’d been in his comfort zone with Anya, but I guess he can’t insult her </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>profess his love.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any further speculation was cut short as Dmitry reentered the break room. Tatiana and Vlad shared a look and Dmitry didn’t even want to know what their topic of conversation had been before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Romanov, would you please get Mr. Vaganov’s last check for him?” Dmitry asked. Tatiana nodded and left the break room without a word, shooting Vlad one final look before closing the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry sat down. An hour into his promotion and he was already tired. Gleb had immediately known what the cause for his termination was and proceeded to claim how Dmitry was unfit for the job and should’ve just left things alone. He had never felt so close to simply punching the man in the face as he did during that conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vlad sat down next to Dmitry and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it was only a day, but it’s good to have you back my boy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry smiled. “Thanks, Vlad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I think a certain lady of the letters would’ve been especially sad to see you gone for good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry groaned and said, “Please, I can’t even think about what I’m going to tell Anya about the letters. I already lied so much about it, I doubt she’d even listen to me if I told her the truth.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you just come clean at the restaurant like you planned?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Dmitry started. The horror on Anya’s face and Dmitry’s own conflicting feelings for her certainly didn’t help. If he wasn’t willing to accept her as Dear Friend at the time, there was no way in hell Anya would’ve accepted him. And it all came right back to the very simple truth that Dmitry was afraid of being rejected. Even now, despite knowing her true feelings, he was still petrified thinking about how she’d react to the full truth. Yes, she loved him, but would she still want him after it all came out? “I didn’t know I loved her, truly, until today. I won’t start something if neither of us want it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vlad thought over his answer, looked at things from Dmitry’s perspective, and then said, “Well, you’re a better man than I am, Dima.” Dmitry smiled as Vlad ruffled his hair. “At least your letters weren’t written to rat out your coworkers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry’s jaw dropped. “That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guilty.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B-but why didn’t you just tell Lily yourself? Why send an anonymous letter?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you love someone, you don’t want to hurt them,” Vlad said, his smile softer than Dmitry’s ever seen it. “You should know. You don’t want to hurt Anya with the truth either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re in love with Lily,” Dmitry said, putting the puzzle pieces together. Looking back, it all made sense. Vlad was the only person who could address Lily by her first name and get away with it. Lily was the only person who Vlad was so incredibly gentle to. He handled her with care. And Vlad was right; Dmitry couldn’t really talk either. “For how long?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Day one, my boy. Day one.” Vlad stood up, ruffled Dmitry’s hair again, and opened the door to the break room. “You can do something about Anya, you know. Leave nothing out when you explain the truth. She might look past it all and see it was out of love,” he said before leaving. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dmitry was still getting used to the word, but he very much liked the sound of it.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Alexei walked into the shop, proudly sporting his new name tag. He would finally be addressed as ‘Romanov’ just like his sisters. Nothing could ruin today for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And here I am, being replaced by a mere child,” Gleb said as he snatched his paycheck from Tatiana. Immediately the day was ruined. “Just wait, in a few years after Sudayev’s run this place into the ground, you’ll all be asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana snorted. She practically began pushing him out of the shop. “The day I work for you is the day you commit to a serious relationship. Newsflash, Gleb: it’ll never happen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gleb scowled at her. He took one last look around the shop. He wasn’t very sad to be leaving; he just wished he’d climbed higher. Damn Dmitry, getting everything he wanted. And just like that he left, slamming the door shut behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it bad that I’m happy he’s finally gone?” Alexei asked. Tatiana wrapped her arm around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all,” she said.      </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Anya walked into the shop approximately twenty minutes early the next day; a personal best for her. She had a spring in her step and a bright smile on her face. And, just like clockwork, Dmitry was the first one to point it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, look who’s early,” he said. Anya was ready to argue, a retort on her tongue, before realizing that he was teasing her. Not in a mean way either, it was almost friendly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Will wonders never cease? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anya thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blame my nanna. She woke me at dawn to help her clean the house,” Anya said. Dmitry smiled - a real, genuine smile - and almost knocked the breath out of her. He had a very nice smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as Dmitry left to check on any last minute decorations, Tatiana grabbed Anya’s arm and dragged her near the break room. “You little liar,” she accused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya avoided her sister’s gaze, arms crossed over her chest. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like Nanna would ever make the favorite grandchild clean the house.” Okay, maybe Anya didn’t wake up at dawn, and maybe she didn’t clean the house, and maybe she was early only so she could see- “You’re here early for him,” Tatiana said, pointing at Dmitry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya faked a gasp. “I would never- I don’t even like him- we’re just friends. Coworkers! Not even friends.” Tatiana just stared at her, obviously not convinced. “Is it that obvious?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, my dear sister, I’m afraid it is. But he’s too dense to realize it, so you should be fine.” Anya rolled her eyes but hugged her sister. If anyone could help her understand boys and the confusing feelings that came with said boys, it was Tatiana. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya was actually really grateful she got to the store when she did. If she had been even five minutes late, she would have drowned in the crowd of thousands of customers waiting outside the doors. When Tatiana unlocked the doors, officially opening for the day, she was almost trampled to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even during her break she couldn’t catch a break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” a customer was screaming at Dmitry. He looked ready to snap, the most fake smile Anya’s ever seen plastered on his face. The old Anya would have left well enough alone, not wanting to disrupt her break. Now though, she genuinely wanted to help, to make the situation just a little bit more bearable for Dmitry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Anya said, sneaking a glance at Dmitry. He looked at her, almost grateful. “But I’m Anya </span>
  <em>
    <span>Romanov</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I was wondering if there was a problem here.” She emphasized her last name, recognizing the old woman from her nanna’s social circle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman looked speechless as Anya continued to smile at her. “I- well, I wasn’t aware about the store’s return policy, that’s all. This young man was doing a wonderful job at assisting me.” She left Dmitry’s station, her nose pointed high into the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remind me to have you nearby during every customer meltdown,” Dmitry said, and Anya smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, think of it as a repayment for you coming to my defense at the restaurant. You didn’t have to do that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry’s cheeks grew red as he said, “I mean I kind of did. It was my fault in the first place.” They were both silent, no doubt remembering the horror that was two days ago. And yet somehow, all of those feelings were gone now. Anya didn’t resent him and she didn’t want him to leave. Not any time soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you know, I’m terribly sorry for all the things I said that night,” Anya said. Even if she had believed the words she spit at him, she didn’t anymore. Truth be told, she didn’t think she believed it even then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All is forgiven, Miss Romanov.” He smiled at her and she knew he was telling the truth. Any negative feelings he held toward her were gone now too. It made her heart soar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They continued looking at each other, unaware of the chaos continuing around them. It wasn’t until someone rang the bell at Dmitry’s station did they realize a line had formed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya began walking away. “I guess I should let you get back to work,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, Miss Romanov,” Dmitry said before Anya could get too far. “Are you taking the bus home tonight?” Anya nodded, her cheeks heating up. He knew she took the bus. “Could I walk you to the bus stop?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya’s smile was taking over her entire face. “I’d like that, Mr. Sudayev.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the rest of the day, Anya could barely focus on the customers; the clock on the wall held her attention as she waited for it to be five o’clock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Anya was grabbing her things, Dmitry walked up to her, offered her his arm, and said, “Shall we go m’lady?” She fought against the urge to suppress her smile, a habit that formed in that in-between time when she didn’t know if she liked or hated him. When he made a joke near her and she didn’t want him to know she thought he was funny. Because he was. Funny and charming and everything she denied he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now she allowed herself to smile. It was worth it; Dmitry’s smile was wide and showed a dimple she never knew he had. She can’t believe she was so stupidly stubborn and was denied this the entire time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Light snow was falling on them as they walked towards the bus stop. It wasn’t a very long walk, but Anya’s heart was in her throat. What if she slipped on the ice, or sneezed unattractively because of the cold? She had never worried if a boy thought she was pretty or not, but with snow in Dmitry’s hair, he was unfairly pretty. Her cheeks and nose were probably very red; not at all attractive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you excited for Christmas?” Dmitry asked, interrupting Anya’s thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very much,” she replied. “My sisters and I always go all out decorating our parents’ house. No matter how much time I spend away from them, once we gather for Christmas, it’s almost like no time has passed.” Suddenly an idea popped into her head. A mortifying, yet tantalizing idea. “Are you doing anything to celebrate?” Anya asked, then gasped. “Oh gosh, I didn’t even ask if you celebrated Christmas.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry laughed and his dimple was on full display again. Anya felt a little proud that she was the cause of that. “Uh, I haven’t celebrated since my dad passed. I usually just watch a movie and make some pelmeni.” He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>cook? </span>
  </em>
  <span>If Anya wasn’t far gone before, she absolutely was now.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to ask about his father, but knew not to push the issue. If she learned anything about Dmitry from all their arguments, it was that he wouldn’t open up if she pushed. He had to come to her, he had to want to tell her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t want to spoil your night, but you could always spend the day with me and my family,” Anya said. Before she could lose her nerve, she continued: “I know Alexei adores you, and Tatiana thinks of you like a second brother. But you don’t have to. I don’t want to force you into anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bus stop was in sight, a couple of people already waiting. The bus wasn’t supposed to be there for another five minutes, but Anya didn’t think she could spend even a second in the awkward silence if he said no. She really wanted him to say yes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like that very much, Miss Anya Romanov,” he said, voice soft. There was something so intimate about her first name on his tongue. She looked up at him and caught him already watching her. She ignored the instinct to hide. Never had she felt so vulnerable with someone before, but she didn’t hate it. With Dmitry, Anya never wanted to hide again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then it’s settled, Mr. Dmitry Sudayev.” His cheeks turned a faint pink, not from the cold. Anya felt another rush of pride. It was nice to know she affected him just as much as he affected her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bus finally arrived. Anya felt slightly disappointed that she had to let go of his arm, and Dmitry seemed to feel the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow,” Anya said, getting on the bus. She sat down, pulling out her book. Except she noticed that Dmitry didn’t move at all from his spot at the bus stop. He stayed, watching the bus until it turned the corner and it was out of sight. Anya smiled the entire ride home. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>To say that the last few days leading up to Christmas were hectic was an understatement. Dmitry had never known chaos until he was forced to explain to several middle-aged to elderly customers that yes, he knew it was almost Christmas, and no, the store’s return policy was final, and oh lord, please just stop shouting. Anya had to swoop in and save him again multiple times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That part wasn’t so bad. He got to talk and flirt and make her blush to her ears. He also noticed for the very first time in the six months they’d worked together that even on work related papers, she still put smiley faces in her o’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> A small part of Dmitry was upset he didn’t piece the puzzle together sooner, but if he learned anything it was that love happened on its own time; it couldn’t be rushed or planned. He certainly did not plan on Anya Romanov, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re staring,” Tatiana said, making Dmitry jump. He didn’t even realize. “I hear you’ll be joining us on Christmas Eve. I wonder how that happened…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly Vlad appeared, throwing his arm around Dmitry’s shoulders. “Just tell the girl, Dima. She obviously likes you just as much as you like her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At least not yet,” Dmitry said. “Wait, how does Tatiana even know? Did you tell her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured it out,” Tatiana said, a smirk on her face. “Sort of.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry shook his head. It didn’t really matter that Tatiana knew; it would all be out in the open soon enough. He could sense that Anya seemed less thrilled to continue their correspondence; he could tell from her letters sent after she asked him to visit for Christmas. Like she was over Dear Friend all of a sudden. Which didn’t really bother Dmitry - he’d much rather she fall for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>than the perfect version printed on paper. It was much more thrilling to know she liked him in spite of his flaws than pretending he didn’t have any at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you even have a plan for Christmas?” Vlad asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no, but-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A little help would be nice,” Anya shouted from where she was ringing up customers. Vlad, Dmitry, and Tatiana all turned towards her, worried they got caught. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry responded, “I was under the impression that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one who got promoted to boss.” Anya rolled her eyes but smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then start acting like it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boss</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” God, she was infuriating, but Dmitry loved her nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana gagged and said, “Get a room.” It made both Anya and Dmitry blush but they all returned to their stations and continued working. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time every penny was accounted for and everything was ready for tomorrow - the 24th, which Dmitry was full on dreading - it was almost two hours past the usual end of Dmitry’s shift. He had expected everyone to go home as he was really the only one needed for prep, but Vlad and Anya had stayed. Anya was sitting at Dmitry’s station, reading her book. (A book that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> recommended to her! As Dear Friend, of course, but it made him smile like an idiot either way.) Vlad was dancing very badly to some Christmas music he had put on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dima, come join me!” Vlad said. He took Dmitry’s hand and spun him under his arm. Dmitry immediately pulled away, settling in next to Anya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no I already told you, I’m a terrible dancer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya snorted. “You can’t be any worse than Vlad.” Dmitry laughed and Vlad gasped at such a betrayal. Dmitry assured her that he was way worse than Vlad. “Prove it,” she said. Dmitry was taken aback. Anya had already closed her book and walked to the middle of the shop. She looked at Dmitry expectantly. “Well?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry swallowed. Not only was he a terrible dancer, but he knew Anya’s presence would make him even worse. But she was waiting for him and he already kept her waiting enough times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cautiously put his hands on her waist, terrified of crossing some invisible line. But Anya was patient and inviting, not rushing him. It made Dmitry a little braver. His grip tightened slightly as Anya wrapped her arms around his neck. The loud, upbeat Christmas music Vlad was playing earlier was replaced with a softer melody. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, they just swayed, but either Anya got braver or Dmitry, and soon he was twirling her away from him just for her to come right back into his arms. Anya giggled and Dmitry laughed along with her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you said you were a terrible dancer,” Anya said, soft so only Dmitry could hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I was,” Dmitry replied. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was until you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He finally understood what Lily meant all those months ago. Even though he wasn’t a dancer, Anya made him feel like one. She was the one he wanted to share all his dances with. Anya’s breath hitched, like she could hear his thoughts. And maybe he wanted her to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking, Dmitry started to lean in, ecstatic that Anya seemed to be following his lead. He could feel her breath on his cheeks, so close. Then the record scratched. Anya and Dmitry jumped away from each other. Vlad was staring daggers at Dmitry and suddenly he remembered where they were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cleared his throat. “Uh, we should probably close up. We have a big day tomorrow.”  Anya nodded, looking disappointed. Dmitry imagined he looked the same. But he had a plan. He was going to tell her tomorrow. Or, well, the truth would come out tomorrow in one way or another. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you! Please come again! Merry Christmas!” Tatiana shouted as the last few customers were practically shoved out of the shop by Dmitry and Alexei. Everyone leaned against the closed doors, ready to collapse. Anya loved Christmas, but she could very much live without all the last minute details. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the total for today?” Vlad asked once everyone gathered their bearings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana grabbed the day’s receipt from the register; it was as long as her wingspan. Alexei gasped in surprise while Vlad rejoiced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s certainly impressive,” a voice said. They all turned toward the door to see Lily standing in the doorway. Her leg was in a cast and she leaned on a crutch, but other than that, she looked as good as new.     </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexei was the first one to greet her. “Mrs. Malevsky-Malevitch, you’re back!” He gave her an awkward, one armed hug. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almost perfect again, Mr. Romanov,” Lily responded. Alexei beamed at the use of his last name, and Anya went up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Too many men in her life were way too tall. Anya glanced at Dmitry and found him already looking at her. She expected him to look away, but he kept his gaze on her. All week she had caught him staring at her, but this was the first time he didn’t look away after getting caught. Anya was the first to break as she felt her face heat up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It also didn’t help that he was unfairly dressed up. Yes, she had told him ‘dress nice’ for her family’s Christmas dinner, but he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>good. Anya was only human after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Lily offered - read: forced - everyone to stay a little longer to enjoy some champagne and catch up, Anya found herself standing next to Dmitry, suddenly nervous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m meeting Dear Friend tomorrow,” she spit out. Dmitry almost choked on his champagne. “And I don’t know why, but the thought of meeting him isn’t as exciting as it used to be. Is that bad? I feel bad.” She looked up but this time he wasn’t looking at her. It hurt just a little bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t help the way you feel. If you don’t love him anymore, you should tell him,” Dmitry said. But that was the thing; she didn’t know if she didn’t love him anymore. She could no longer deny that Dmitry had a place in her heart, but what about the man who was there first? She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She didn’t want to break anyone’s heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tatiana gasped, disrupting Anya’s thoughts. She set down her champagne glass, excitingly gathering her things. “Paul’s here! We’re getting coffee before dinner, which I invited him to, by the way. Wish me luck! See you three in an hour,” Tatiana said, practically running out of the shop to greet the man who just walked past the window. From what little Anya could see, he looked nice and respectful. A wonderful change for her Tatya. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Three? I didn’t realize I hired a fourth Romanov,” Lily commented. Dmitry turned a deep red as he explained he was also invited for the Romanov’s annual Christmas dinner. “Oh, I see.” Lily had a knowing look on her face that made Anya blush as bad as Dmitry. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer, you all have things to get ready for. It was nice to see everyone again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was nice seeing you again too, Lily,” Vlad said. He took her hand, gently kissing it before setting his own glass down and putting on his coat. “I’ll see you all after the holidays. Unfortunately, I have to look after three little monsters known as my nieces.” Vlad took one last glance at his coworkers, gave Dmitry a look that Anya didn’t know how to interpret, and left the shop. </span>
</p>
<p><span>Alexei and Lily began packing up their own things. Anya offered to officially close up; she wanted to stall as long as possible. Something made her dread going to dinner. What if her parents didn’t like Dmitry? What if Maria or Olga didn’t like him? What if </span><em><span>he </span></em><span>didn’t like the rest of her family and wanted nothing to do with her after that?</span><span><br/></span> <span>“What are you thinking about?” Dmitry asked. He was putting the table covers over all the stations while Anya closed all the curtains. “You have your ‘I’m thinking about something that will ultimately give me a stomachache’ face on. What’s wrong?” Of course he knew something was wrong. Of course he could read her mind when she barely knew what he was thinking. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, I’m just worried about tomorrow,” Anya lied. “You know, what if he doesn’t like me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’d be crazy not to like you,” Dmitry responded. He didn’t even hesitate. Damn this boy and the stupid things he did to her heart. “I mean, what’s not to like?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we both know I’m stubborn. He might not be patient enough for me.” It was a lie, but all lies are formed by some sort of truth or whatever Olga had told Anya one time. She didn’t want Dmitry to wake up one day and realize that </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>was going on between them just wasn’t worth it. Anya knew her big mouth could easily ruin this amazing thing they had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anya,” Dmitry said. She didn’t even notice him coming up to her. He took her hands in his. “This guy is crazy in love with you. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. It’s not like some kind of blind date. Besides, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, he won’t hold it against you or anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya pulled away, letting her hands drop to her sides. “How do you know?” She wished she could tell him the truth. That she didn’t want that anymore. She wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not some stranger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I-” Dmitry cut himself off. He took a deep breath, and Anya waited. She’d wait for him forever. “Because I know you. And I knew from the minute you walked through those doors that you would be the woman I was going to fall in love with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya’s heart stopped. Somehow her brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that the man she loved loved her back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she had been flaunting her date in front of his face like a jerk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B-but… I was awful! You hated me!” He couldn’t be in love with her; it was too good to be true. It must be some sort of dream. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry laughed but there was no warmth in it, no humor. “You hated me too. I knew how you felt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you didn’t know,” Anya said, speaking without thinking. “Because I…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m in love with you too. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Six easy words and yet Anya couldn’t say them. How could she betray Dear Friend like this? After all they’ve been through, she at least owed him a face-to-face conversation. “Because I had feelings for you too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Had?” Dmitry asked, and it stabbed Anya in the heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dmitry, I’m so sorry,” Anya said, “but I can’t take your heart when I don’t even know who mine belongs to. Trust me, I’d love to be with you, but I owe it to Dear Friend to at least see where it could go. I won’t do that to him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya grabbed the presents she had resting on Alexei’s station, trying her hardest not to cry. She didn’t expect him to join her for dinner now and it hurt even more to know he’d probably still go for Tatiana and Alexei and the rest of her family. But she ruined this one good thing, she put her foot in with him yet again, and it was even worse than at the restaurant. She didn’t think anything could fix it this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘I am so sorry about last night,’” Dmitry said, voice booming in the empty, quiet store. Anya knew those words. She’d rewritten them at least five times, trying to word her letter in the best way possible. “‘It was a nightmare in every way. But, I think, someday we’ll laugh about it together.’” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya turned to face Dmitry, her presents falling to the ground. Of course Dmitry was Dear Friend. Of course the two people who knew Anya’s heart better than she did were one in the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dear Friend?” Anya asked, needing verbal confirmation. She needed to know this wasn’t a trick or lie. Dmitry nodded. He looked so… scared. She had never seen him look scared before. Was he scared she would reject him? Anya laughed, despite herself; like she would ever reject him now, after everything. “It really is you. You know, I actually hoped that you were my penpal, more than once I might add.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry’s nervous expression morphed into one of pure happiness. He was next to her in the blink of an eye, closer than he had ever been before. He took her hand and electricity coursed through Anya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really mean it?” Anya asked. She looked into his eyes, eyes she could now fully admit she spent too much time daydreaming about. “You’re in love with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry thought back to the beginning of summer, when Vlad asked if they were ever going to meet in person. His response then was to hide and pretend letters were enough. Now, though, he had no reason to hide. Anya knew him, at his best and worst. It was more than he could ever ask for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am very much in love with you, Anya Romanov,” he said.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya nodded, pretended like this wasn’t everything she’d ever wanted. “Good, good. Very convenient given that I’m in love with you too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry looked at her in a way he never had before. Like he was free to be selfish with his love for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now the real question is: are we still on for tomorrow?” Dmitry asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya pretended to think it over. “We’ll see how tonight goes first.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry took her other hand and rested his forehead against hers. He paused, a silent question hanging in the air. Anya answered it by rising up on her toes, using their joined hands to balance herself as she kissed him. Dmitry responded enthusiastically, smiling wide enough to break the kiss. But Anya didn’t care; her smile matched his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now actually,” Dmitry said, voice low. It sent a shiver down Anya’s spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too,” she confessed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dmitry offered her his arm and Anya took it. He gathered her presents from the floor, holding them high above Anya’s head so he could carry them for her. She pretended to be annoyed, but her smile gave her away. The two left the store arm in arm, hearts full of love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anya was too happy to dread the ‘I told you so’ conversation she was surely going to have with Tatiana.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this one's for you guys*! </p>
<p>*all my anastasia mutuals on tumblr ily</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm on tumblr @cressisaqueen</p></blockquote></div></div>
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